


The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn

by Deans_Fetish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood, Gore, M/M, Male Slash, Sibling incest (Wincest), Swearing, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-27
Updated: 2010-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 74,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9528530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deans_Fetish/pseuds/Deans_Fetish
Summary: Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dollarformyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollarformyname/gifts).



> ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

Diner, Lake Tahoe Area

“Huh,” Sam commented, staring at his cell phone screen. 

Dean looked up over his brows from where he had been eating his bacon double cheeseburger.

“Huh?” He asked Sam before placing the burger down in the basket with his fries and reaching for his napkin. 

“Huh as in, ‘Huh, I just figured out how to get porn on my cell phone’ or ‘Huh, the baby sitter ate the baby’?” Dean asked. 

Sam frowned, shooting his brother a look of annoyance. 

“One of my friends from Stanford -” Sam started. 

“Stanford? I thought you stopped keeping in touch with them after St. Louis?” Dean asked. 

Sam shrugged, “Well, I did… sort of,” he licked his lips and squirmed a little in his chair knowing how Dean felt about them having ties to anyone that wasn’t family, especially now after what had started between them seven months ago. His brother had a serious possessive streak that didn’t end with just his car. 

“I mean, I don’t write them back or anything, but this one was just sent to me,” Sam shrugged. 

Dean picked up a French fry, shoving it into his mouth, “What’s it say?” He asked as he chewed the fried potato.

Sam licked his lips and frowned at the tiny cell phone screen, eyes tightening. 

“Angelo says -”

Dean snickered, “You have a friend named Angelo?”

Sam shot his brother another annoyed scowl before returning his attention to his cell. 

“He says that some kid is paying a bunch of them ten thousand dollars to spend the night at a supposedly haunted Inn,” Sam continued, purposefully not answering Dean’s question about his friend’s name. 

“Which means it _is_ haunted,” Dean surmised, with a shrug of one shoulder, “Cause they always are.”

Sam glanced at his brother before looking back at the cell, “Yeah, maybe…” he mumbled thoughtfully. 

“I think we should check this out, Dean,” Sam said before looking back at his brother. 

Dean sighed heavily and sat back in his chair. 

“I can call Angelo and get the address of the place and we can just look into it, make sure this isn’t something we need to worry about,” Sam argued. 

Dean nodded, “Yeah, I know, you’re right, fine,” he muttered, glancing down at his burger, not at all thrilled, remembering he last time they’d helped one of Sam’s college buddies. “Can I finish eating in peace first?”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother only to smile politely as the waitress came over to get their glasses for refills. 

He waited until she walked away and was out of earshot before returning his attention to his brother, “Alright, I’ll call Angelo when we get in the car and try to find out more about this haunted Inn.” 

Dean nodded, reaching for his burger, pausing to look up at Sam, his eyes searching Sam’s face affectionately, “Eat your salad before it gets… uh, hot… or whatever,” he muttered with a slight shrug, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. 

Sam returned his brothers smirk as he sat his cell phone down on the table and reached for his fork. 

“Wilted,” Sam corrected. 

Dean looked up at Sam as he chewed his bite of burger and raised his brows questioningly. 

“The salad,” Sam clarified, pointing at it with his fork, “it doesn’t get hot, it wilts.” 

Dean’s brows furrowed slightly as he frowned and quirked a brow, rolling his eyes, eliciting a small soft chuckle from his brother as Sam stabbed a forkful of greens. 

“Hey, Angelo, it’s Sam,” Sam said, a smile pulling at his lips as he held his cell to his ear, elbow resting on the ledge of the open Impala window as his brother drove them down the street toward a gas station so they could fill up before heading out of town. 

“Sam, Sam Winchester?” Angelo asked, his smile clear in his voice, “Dude, it’s been forever since I’ve heard from you. How ya been? What have you been up to? You just kinda disappeared after…” he rambled excitedly only to let his sentence drop off awkwardly. 

Sam frowned wistfully, “Mm,” he glanced over at Dean, who glanced at him, their eyes meeting briefly before Sam looked away, back out the windshield, his free hand idly picking at a thread on his jeans. 

Dean pulled a hand from the steering wheel and reached over, laying it on Sam’s thigh, giving a small comforting squeeze causing his brother to glance over at him, offering a small appreciative smile before he looked away once more. 

Dean released Sam’s leg, pulling his hand away, returning it to the steering wheel, his attention half on the road and half on the conversation Sam was having on his cell. 

“Yeah, I just… I needed some time after Jess… I’ve been on a road trip with my brother…” Sam answered. 

Dean scoffed and shook his head. 

“Road trip,” he muttered under his breath, drawing Sam’s attention to him briefly as he frowned before tearing his gaze away. 

“Oh, well, that sounds great man, really great,” Angelo offered encouragingly. 

Sam took a deep breath, “Yeah, listen, I got your email… about the Inn…” 

“Oh dude, how sweet is _that_?” Angelo asked, chuckling. “Ten thousand bucks to stay in some old Inn. Talk about easy money, right?”

Sam gave a fake smile, “Uh, yeah… so what’s this about anyway? What Inn?” Sam asked, frowning. 

“Uh, Burberry Harbor Inn, it’s over near the Owyhee River in Rome, Oregon, right there on the cliffs overlooking the Pacific…” Angelo answered. 

“Why? You thinkin’ of comin’ along?” He asked. “Dude, you totally should. Bring that brother of yours and get some easy cash,” Angelo suggested. 

Sam’s brows rose, “Heh, you don’t think your host would have somethin’ to say about that?”

“Dude, he told us all to invite as many people as we wanted,” Angelo explained. “Guess this guy has more money than brains, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so…” Sam muttered distractedly as he reached for a pad of paper and pulled out a pen scribbling down the name of the Inn and the location that Angelo had told him. 

“Do you think we could meet first maybe?” Sam asked, “You could tell me more about it,” he smiled, glancing over at Dean, “talk my brother into going.”

“Sure man, how about we meet at Cindy’s Cyber Café tomorrow before classes, say eight AM?” Angelo suggested. 

Sam nodded, writing the name of the café and time down on the paper just as Dean pulled the car into the gas station. 

“Alright, we’ll see ya tomorrow, Angelo,” Sam said.

“Cool, man, it’ll be good to see you.”

Sam smiled sadly, “Yeah, you too, man, you too…” 

Dean parked the car in front of the pumps and turned off the car, looking over at Sam. 

“You too what?” he asked, his gaze darting between Sam’s face and the cell phone in his hand as his brother snapped it closed. 

Sam raised his brows as he looked over at his brother. 

“Huh?” He asked, following Dean’s gaze as he looked down at his phone.

“Oh,” Sam muttered, retuning his attention to Dean’s face, giving his head a small shake, “nothin’, it’ll just be good to see him again s’all.” 

Dean quirked a brow before his eyes lowered to the phone once again only to return to Sam’s face. 

“Just what kind of friends were you two?” Dean asked; his tone nearly accusatory. 

Sam frowned and huffed, “Just friends, Dean. It was nothing like that.”

Dean gave a small grunt as he reached for the door handle. 

“Dean,” Sam called, reaching a hand out, placing it on Dean’s thigh.

Dean quickly turned his attention to his brother before his eyes dropped to his brother’s hand on his leg. He glanced past Sam toward the gas station just a few feet away and the man behind the window at the register. He reached down with his free hand, sliding Sam’s hand off his leg before his eyes met his brothers. 

“Not here,” Dean mumbled before shouldering open the door and sliding from behind the wheel, closing the driver side door behind him.

Sam sighed in frustration and sat back in the seat, staring out the windshield. 

“You can be all possessive but I can’t put my hand on your leg because someone might see?” He mumbled under his breath in the emptiness of the car as his eyes slipped closed. 

Bare legs lay tangled together amongst stark white rumpled sheets, the cotton fabric draping over naked flesh just barely covering more the intimate areas of their bodies as Sam and Dean lay together in their motel room bed, the alarm clock snooze button behind them having been pushed for the third time. 

“Mm, we should get up,” Sam suggested sleepily, though he made no attempt to move from the circle of Dean’s embrace, his head remaining pillowed on his brother’s shoulder. 

“Why, what time is it?” Dean mumbled groggily. 

Sam sighed softly and cracked open an eye as he rolled his head, his body pulling minutely away from Dean’s as he looked over at the clock before he rolled back and snuggled back up against his brother. 

“Seven,” he muttered softly as he closed his eyes once more. 

Dean shook his head, rolling more onto his side to face his brother, “Mm-uh, got plenty’a time,” he argued sleepily, pulling Sam in closer and burying his face against his brother’s neck, kissing him softly. 

“Only take me ‘bout ten minutes to get there,” he explained softly. 

Sam’s lips quirked into a smile, a soft chuckle working out of him, knowing full well that was only if Dean drove way faster than the speed limit, not that it was something new for his brother. 

“Yeah, guess so,” he agreed, sliding a leg further up Dean’s and over it, hooking his brother’s hip and pulling him in closer. 

“Ya start that and we aren’t gonna have time,” Dean warned. 

Sam chuckled and eased the grip his leg had on his brother, pulling Dean’s body up against his own. 

“Sorry,” he muttered softly. 

Dean sniffed and gave a small nod, “S’okay.” he muttered, his hand sliding up Sam’s side to cup his brother’s neck as he edged his body back, causing Sam’s head to slide off his shoulder onto the pillow. 

He rolled over, body half draping over one side of Sam’s body, his head dipping, mouth slanting over Sam’s, tongue darting out to lick his way into his brother’s mouth. 

Sam arched and squirmed under his brother, neck arching, trying to wiggle out of his brother’s kiss. 

“Dean,” he breathed softly, “gotta brush…”

Dean’s lips quirked slightly against Sam’s, “S’okay, me too… we’ll be dirty together,” he suggested, tongue once more slipping between his brother’s lips and into his mouth, mapping it out slowly, eliciting a soft moan from deep in his brother’s throat and an answering one from his own. 

Sam’s arms rose, arms wrapping around his brother, holding him closer, flattened palms running over his brother’s bare back and up into the soft short spikes of his hair. 

The kiss went on for longer than either one of them expected it to, lips crushed together, tongues tangled, hot breaths mixing and mingling, teeth clanking softly as low moans and soft groans tore from their throats to be swallowed up in the kiss. 

Dean suckled his brother’s bottom lip as he ended the kiss, slowly pulling his head back, releasing Sam’s lip with a wet suction sound. Neither moved for a long moment; each staring lovingly at the other as Dean’s lips quirked into a small soft smile at the corners. 

“I love you, Dean,” Sam whispered. 

“Yeah,” Dean breathed softly, “me too.”

Sam’s brow furrowed in a small frown though he said nothing, his gaze dropping from Dean’s face. 

Thumb of Dean’s hand against his brother’s neck, pressed against Sam’s chin, tilting his head up, forcing his brother to look at him. 

“Hey,” Dean whispered, “you know I love you, right?”

 _‘Do I?’_ , Sam thought. It was what he wanted to say, the challenge he wanted to toss out at his brother, but he knew better. He knew Dean loved him, he just wished he wasn’t so against showing it sometimes. For all the ways Dean was anything but inhibited with women, he was completely different when it came to them. Nearly blushing virgin degrees of self-consciousness, though he figured it had to do with Dean’s overly butch persona he presented to the world. After all, it wasn’t very ‘badass’ to be in love with your brother he supposed. 

Instead Sam nodded as he breathed inhaled deeply, “Yeah,” he agreed as he exhaled, “I know.” 

Dean’s lips quirked upward at the corners into a smile as he pulled back onto his knees, straddling Sam, his hand pulling from his brother’s neck as he moved, reaching for Sam’s hand instead. 

“C’mon,” he offered suggestively, giving a sideways nod of his head toward the bathroom, “s’go take a shower,” Dean suggested huskily as he climbed backward off the bed, tugging Sam’s arm. 

“If you’re good, I’ll let ya wash my back,” Dean said with a chuckle, grinning wide as he pulled Sam from the bed and to his feet, forcing him to trail after him and into the bathroom. 

Sam frowned as he stumbled sleepily after his brother, “How is it a treat for _me_ to wash your back?”

“Cause I’m awesome,” Dean answered with a chuckle as he pulled Sam into the bathroom, closing the door behind them. 

[ 7: 58 AM]

Dean and Sam sat across from one another at one of the tables at Cindy’s Cyber café, waiting for Angelo to show up as they’d arranged. 

Sam sat back in his chair as the door to the café opened, nodding his head toward the door as a medium height Italian young man walked in wearing a jeans jacket, blue jeans and a white tee, his dark brown hair straight and shaggy, face clean shaven. 

Dean turned his head and looked over at the kid, chuckling softly. He looked back at Sam and quirked a brow, a wide grin on his face. 

“Your college buddy looks like Chachi Arcola,” he snickered. 

Sam shot his brother a disapproving scowl before returning his attention to his friend and waving him over as the guy walked further into the café. 

Dean sighed and looked back at the Chachi wanna-be, unaffected by Sam’s bitch face number one hundred and sixty eight. Yeah, he’d actually started numbering them out of boredom a few months back and had gotten to two hundred and given up, Sam was far too broody and had far too many of those damn looks for it to remain fun anymore. He watched the kid’s lips spread into a wide grin once he saw Sam just before heading their way. 

He glanced over at Sam as his brother stood to his feet, awaiting Chachi or… what was his name again? Oh, right, Angelo to reach them. 

“Hey, man!” Angelo greeted, throwing his arms around Sam in a hug that his brother returned, both of them patting one another on the back briefly before stepping apart. 

Dean quirked a brow as he looked from one to the other. 

_‘Just a friend, huh?’_

“Hey, how have you been Angelo?” Sam asked, smiling wide, dimples showing as the two of them clapped one another on the shoulder. 

Angelo shrugged, “Ya know, same ole, same ole,” he answered with a grin. 

Sam nodded and turned his attention to Dean, “Dean, this is my buddy Angelo,” he looked back at Angelo, “Angelo, this is my brother, Dean.”

Angelo stepped around the table, arms spreading wide in an attempt to hug Dean even as he remained sitting, only to have Dean hold up a hand stopping him. 

“Whoa, whoa there,” Dean muttered, offering his hand for Angelo to shake instead. 

Angelo grinned wide as he took Dean’s hand in his, covering it with his free hand, shaking it as he glanced over at Sam then returned his attention to Dean.

“Any brother of Sam’s is a friend of mine,” Angelo offered. 

“Great,” Dean muttered less than thrilled by that idea as he extracted his hand from both of Angelo’s. 

Sam pulled out his chair and sat back down, “Have a seat,” he said to Angelo, nodding toward the empty seat at the end of their table. 

Angelo nodded, ever present smile still in place revealing rows of perfectly straight pearly white teeth as he pulled out the chair and took a seat between the Winchesters. 

“So, tell us about you findin’ your thrill on Blueberry Hill,” Dean drawled as he sat back in his chair, eyeing Angelo.

Angelo frowned in confusion and turned his attention from Dean to look over at Sam who kicked his brother under the table, a deep scowl on his face before he looked back over at Angelo.

Dean’s attention shot to Sam as he was kicked, body jerking back slightly at the impact of Sam’s boot against his shin, a frown of his own meeting Sam’s scowl before he slowly tore his attention away from his brother.

“What he means is, tell us about this Inn that you’re going to be staying at,” Sam clarified. 

“Oh,” Angelo muttered, his gaze darting between the brother’s a moment before his smile returned and he began to excitedly retell exactly what he had already told Sam on the phone. 

“Okay, wait,” Sam interrupted, “this Burberry Harbor Inn… you say it’s near the Owyhee River in Rome, Oregon?”

Angelo nodded, “Yeah,” he answered, his attention turned toward Sam. 

Sam glanced over at Dean.

“Some college square just wants you to spend the night at a deserted Inn for no apparent reason and this doesn’t seem a little off to you?” Dean asked, quirking a brow. 

Angelo frowned and shrugged, a smile slowly pulling at his lips until it was a full blown grin, “Come on, it’s not like it’s really haunted,” he insisted, opening his hands wide on the table as he looked from Dean to Sam and back, “there’s no such thing!”

Dean sighed and looked back at his brother, brows lifted. 

Sam huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes before returning his attention to Angelo, “Who was this guy who offered the money? Can we talk to him?”

Angelo shrugged and shook his head, “New guy at school, I guess he was a transfer or something, not real popular but apparently loaded,” he answered before frowning thoughtfully, “Uh, name’s Abram,” Angelo nodded to his own memory before blinking and looking from Sam to Dean once again. 

Dean snickered softly only to stifle it with a cough as Sam turned his attention to him, glaring. 

“Have you noticed anything strange about this Abram?” Sam asked, shaking his head as he frowned. “His eyes, maybe strength that doesn’t seem to fit someone his size…”

“An aversion to holy water or the name Christo…?” Dean added only to receive another kick under the table.

“Ow!” Dean snapped at Sam, scowling. 

“Would you cut it out?” Sam asked through gritted teeth. 

Angelo looked from Sam to Dean and back, a nervous chuckle working out of him, “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” Sam consoled, shooting his brother another disapproving frown before returning his attention to Angelo. 

“You were saying?” Sam coaxed, “About Abram… can we talk to him before this sleep over occurs?”

Angelo shook his head, a grin splitting his face, “Nah, man, he’s up there now setting up, we’re all heading over there tonight after class,” he answered, pulling to his feet. “You and Dean should come,” he shrugged a shoulder, “It’s gonna be fun.” 

Sam sighed and looked over at Dean before returning his attention to Angelo. 

“How many of you are supposed to be there?” Sam asked him. 

“I know of five, but Abram told us to bring who we wanted, so I dunno how many more there might be,” Angelo answered, his brow creasing in confusion.

Sam sighed, not liking the sound of this the more they heard. 

“So, your just gonna go stay the weekend at some Inn because… he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse?” Dean asked Angelo.

Angelo grinned as he looked at Dean, “Somethin’ like that, I guess, yeah,” he shrugged, “why not?”

Dean looked back at Sam and shook his head. For a bunch of college kids they were about the dumbest group of people he’d ever run across in his life. 

Angelo looked back at Sam, “You should come,” Angelo offered again, “really… it’d be good to see you.”

Sam glanced at Dean before looking back at Angelo giving a nod, “Yeah, maybe…”

Angelo nodded; a wide smile on his face. 

“I gotta get,” he muttered as he lifted a hand, jabbing his thumb toward the door, “got classes soon,” he explained, looking from Sam to Dean and back. 

Sam nodded, “Yeah, alright, I’ll see ya later,” he answered softly. 

Angelo gave a small nod, smiling wide, “Awesome, see ya tonight then,” he said, before looking at Dean, “Good to meet you,“ he added, “See ya both tonight!“ He called as he turned and hurried toward the front door of the café and out. 

Dean watched Angelo leave before he looked back at Sam and quirked a brow, eyeing his brother.

“What?” Sam asked. 

Dean shook his head, “Nothin’,” he muttered, tearing his gaze away from his brother, “He was just seemed to sure want you to be there tonight,” he said, looking back at his brother. 

Sam sighed and tilted his head slightly to the side as he looked at his brother. 

_‘Really, Dean?’_ , Sam thought in exasperation. 

“It’s just been a long time and we were good friends,” Sam shrugged, “it’s no big deal.”

Dean frowned thoughtfully as his eyes searched his brother face before he pulled his attention away and stood to his feet, “Yeah, whatever,” he sighed heavily before turning and heading for the door. 

Sam sat staring after his brother in shocked befuddlement a second before quickly jumping up and following after him. 

“So, some rich kid decides to buy himself some friends and your buddies all find this to be a good idea?” Dean asked as they drove toward the cliffs of Rome, Oregon.

Sam sighed and shook his head in disbelief at the stupidity his friends were showing, “I guess so,” he agreed. 

Dean shook his head, muscle twitching in his clenched jaw, “Unbelievable,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed softly, “you’re tellin’ me,” he mumbled on a soft sigh as he settled back in the leather seat of the Impala. 

Dean leaned forward, reaching for the radio dial, turning it on and cranking it up loud, the blaring sounds of Metallica filling the Impala before he sat back in the seat once more, thumbs tapping to the rhythm of the music against the steering wheel. 

At first glance, as the Impala pulled up in front of the Burberry Harbor Inn the place was reminiscent of such a place that could be easily mistaken for a turn of the century hotel, solid brick towers stretching up to rival the trees and a white lattice portico and staggered balconies stretching out from the front facade to welcome travelers. It wasn’t until you looked a little closer that the dilapidation of the building itself, the chippings in the once bright red brick, now filthy and faded with age caught the eye and allowed you to see that it wasn’t the structure that it once was. 

Dean frowned as he turned his head, looking out the driver side window at the hotel as they slowly drove past it.

“That’s it, huh?” He muttered after reaching forward to turn down the radio. 

Sam leaned over toward Dean, his head dipped slightly as he looked out at the Inn through the driver side window along with his brother.

“Guess so,” Sam mumbled in answer before slowly sitting back as Dean drove past and around to where the others seemed to be parking their cars. He pulled the Impala to a stop next to a mint condition brand new red corvette convertible and turned off the engine. The parking area of the hotel was near a tall white privacy fence that separated the Inn from the edge of the cliffs that lead to the river below. Two other cars, both of which were older, one silver Toyota, the other a white Mazda sat parked along the opposite side of the corvette. 

Dean turned his head, toward the cars as he reached for the door handle. 

“I doubt this is everybody,” he mumbled, shouldering open the Impala’s door. 

Sam sighed and popped his door open, “I doubt it,” he agreed, “I don’t see Angelo’s car here either.”

Dean slid from behind the wheel standing to his full height and looked across the roof of the car at his brother, brow furrowed questioningly. 

“Oh? What’s he drive?” He asked. 

Sam shrugged a shoulder, “I dunno, it was blue; a Neon, I think.”

Dean’s lips quirked up into a grin as he reached for the car door, throwing it closed. 

Sam smirked and hung his head, shaking it as he turned and walked toward the back of the Impala, knowing Dean was gloating needlessly. Angelo was nothing more than a friend, but if it made Dean feel better that he’d out car-ed him, Sam wasn’t going to take that away from his brother. 

Walking back to the trunk, Dean popped it open, reaching for their weapons duffel, unzipping it and tossing in a few more items that they might need. 

Sam reached for and grabbed his duffel, shouldering it before he looked up from what his brother was doing to look around them. He could hear the ocean crashing up against the cliffs, probably coming from the back side of the Inn since this side had the salt water fed river running through the canyon below. The call of seagulls filled the air in the distance around them. A crisp breeze blowing in off the sea ruffled Sam’s hair and blew against an old wooden sign at the front of the motel announcing the name of the place to visitors, the worn and weathered wood creaking and groaning on its rusted metal hinges.

Zipping the weapons duffel, Dean pulled the strap up on his shoulder and reached in for his own duffel, tugging it out of the trunk before reaching up and grabbing the trunk lid, slamming it closed. 

“Let’s go,” Dean muttered, turning toward the hotel. 

Sam returned his attention to his brother, giving a small nod before following behind Dean as they walked toward the entrance to the Inn. 

The door hinges creaked as Dean pushed the door to the hotel open with his free hand and stepped inside, his and Sam’s boots echoing on the hardwood floors that groaned under their weight. Hunter’s instincts on high alert, Dean’s gaze surveyed the area seemingly abandoned around them as they made their way further into the parlor, reaching out with his one free hand to brush back a thick weave of gossamer ashen hued spider webbing. 

“Hey, what are you doing? Don’t screw with the natural ambiance,” a voice said as a wall panel opened and a young man, his short blond hair parted and feathered to one side in the front, dressed in dark slacks, a dress shirt and sweater vest rushed out to meet the Winchesters. 

Dean eyed the kid before glancing behind him at the wall that remained half open. At closer inspection he could see the hinges and how it was indeed a door made to look like part of the wall. His gaze darted back to the young man, eyebrow quirking. 

“You must be Ritchie Rich,” Dean surmised. 

“Abram Alexander Thornton, the third,” Abram corrected as he looked from Dean to Sam and back. 

Dean eyed the kid up and down, a soft scoff leaving him. 

“My condolences,” Dean muttered before stepping past the kid, adjusting the strap of the weapons duffel on his shoulder and adding the strap of his own duffel to free up his hands as he walked further into the hotel, reaching into his pocket for the EMF detector, pulling it out. 

Sam shot a frustrated frown at his brother’s back before turning his attention to Abram. 

“I’m Sam and that’s,” he began, nodding toward Dean, “my brother, Dean,” he explained. “Angelo invited us.”

Abram’s gaze returned to Sam, having been watching Dean walk past him. 

“Angelo, right,” he muttered before his lips belatedly turned upward in a feigned friendly smile, offering a hand to Sam to shake, “Abram Alexander Thornton, the third,” he introduced himself again, “Abram,” he modified with the self-conscious shrug of one shoulder. 

Sam offered a small tight lipped friendly smile of his own as he grasped Abram’s hand, shaking it a second before releasing, his eyes roaming over the Inn before returning to Abram. 

“Interesting place,” Sam offered. 

Abram smiled fully, showing rows of obviously medically straightened and professionally cleaned sparkling white teeth as he chuckled softly and nodded, a soft blush staining his cheeks, his bright blue gaze falling to the floor briefly before returning to meet Sam’s hazel. 

“Yeah, well… I heard about it through my father, thought it would be a fun way to meet people,” he shrugged a shoulder. 

Sam frowned, a confused smile pulling at his lips, “You never just thought about having a party at your dorm?”

Abram raised his brows and nodded, “Mm, yeah well, how boring is that, right? I wanted to… stand out, be different… be,” Abram pressed his lips together, a sad look passing briefly over his face, “special,” he finished softly before quickly looking away. 

He turned toward Dean, stuffing his ands in the pockets of his dress slacks before looking back over his shoulder at Sam. 

“Come on, I’ll show ya around, get you and your brother settled in.” 

Dean stood in the archway of the entry, EMF detector hidden in front of him as turned at the waist, first to the left and then the right, looking around. 

Turning his attention back toward the left, Dean was nearly run over by a small slip of a girl with long dark auburn hair and slanted dark green eyes, perfectly formed mahogany hued lips and a ready smile. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she gushed as she nearly bounced off on his side, the wooden bowl of chips she’d been carrying falling to the floor with a loud clatter. 

Dean reached for the girl, nearly dropping the EMF detector in the process as he helped her right her footing, holding onto her shoulders. 

“Whoa, easy there…” he mumbled, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he gazed down at her upturned face. 

The young lady smiled up at Dean shyly as she righted her footing and pulled back away from him, her gaze dropping quickly in embarrassment at her clumsiness. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she waved a hand distractedly, looking anywhere but up into Dean’s face. 

Dean’s smile widened as he nodded, “S’okay, no harm, no foul, right?” 

She hazard a glance up at him then, her embarrassed smile wide; cheeks flushed a soft pink. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” she muttered before clearing her throat and shifting her weight. 

“I - I’m Kelley,” she introduced herself, offering him one of her hands to shake briefly before dropping down into a crouch position as she began cleaning up the chips she had scattered accidentally along with the bowl. 

Dean had grasped her hand to shake it only to have her quickly pull her hand away almost before he had the chance to do more than close his calloused fingers around her petite hand. The timid display causing his brow to furrow in confusion before he staggered back a step as she suddenly dropped down into a crouch in front of him, his eyes widening marginally before his gaze dropped to what she was doing. He gave his head a small half shake at her actions, huffing out a soft chuckle as he realized she was suddenly trying to clean the dirty floor of broken chips, tossing the crumbs and shattered pieces into the bowl she’d dropped. 

He crouched down across from her, tucking the EMF detector into his pocket as he bent his legs, the straps to the duffels sliding down off his shoulder as their weight came to rest against the floor. Reaching out, he gathered up some of the broken chips and crumbs before pulling his arm back, his hand moving over the bowl, dropping them inside. 

Kelley lifted her gaze off the floor to meet his grass green gaze and smiled a soft kind smile, “Thank you,” she mumbled softly before her gaze fell away, returning to the task at hand. 

Dean’s lips quirked at the corner into a grin, “S’okay, not a biggie,” he answered with a small shrug of one shoulder. “Name’s Dean, by the way.”

Kelley’s eyes slowly rose to Dean’s face, her lips curling upward into a pleasant smile, a soft breathy chuckle working out of her as she gave a nod. 

“Dean,” she greeted, “nice to meet you.” 

Dean’s lips curved into a full smile as his green eyes moved over Kelley’s form; to familiar places that tickled at his fancy. For most guys it was all tits and ass, but Dean’s favor was in the underside of the breast, where the skin was the softest, never mind that hers was now covered by the tight fitting emerald tee she wore. The back of a knee, where she’d feel the light tickle of his finger tips was another. But mostly it was in her neck. There was always something special in the lines there. How the slightest turn of the head could draw out the jugular or the windpipe. If he looked hard enough he could see the shuddery breath of her lungs when she was on the cusp of an orgasm. How he longed to plant a light kiss, or draw his teeth against the delicate skin just below a woman’s ear, just to feel her tense like a bowstring and feel her hips ask for more. Yes the neck was indeed a favored place for the elder Winchester. Hers was as welcome as they came. 

Motion next to Dean drew his attention away from the smooth column of Kelley's throat, his head turning to look over at the well worn tips of hunting boots before his head tilted upward, eyes lifting to his brother’s face as Sam looked down at him then over to Kelley and back questioningly. 

“Who’s your friend?” Sam asked, offering a small forced smile Kelley’s way before he returned his attention to Dean, just as the elder Winchester pulled the duffel straps back up onto his shoulder and drew up to his full height with a sigh. 

“Uh, this is, Kelley,” Dean introduce, nodding toward the red-head as she stood to her full height, offering Sam an slightly shy smile, nodding her head toward him. 

“Kelley, this is, uh, my brother, Sam,” Dean muttered, his gaze lingering a little longer on Kelley than he’d meant for it to before he looked over at Sam. 

Sam’s tight fake smile remained as he looked from his brother to Kelley and back. 

Kelley’s gaze anxiously darted between the brothers as she shifted the bowl in her hands. 

“It was nice to meet you,” she muttered, her gaze on Dean before darting to Sam, “both,” she smiled slightly wider, “I, uh, I’m just gonna go…” she stammered, lifting a hand and jabbing her thumb back in the direction she’d appeared from to begin with before she turned spun around and quickly hurried from the room, bowl held protectively in front of her. 

Dean watched her go until she disappeared through one of the archways, turning down a corridor before he looked back over at his brother. 

“See what you did?” He asked, “You scared her.”

Sam frowned at his brother, his head turning to look off in the direction Kelley disappeared in, “Good,” he muttered half under his breath. 

Dean frowned at his brother as he reached into the pocket of his leather pulling the EMF detector back out. 

“I dunno, thought she was kinda nice,” he muttered as he started to slowly walk around the room. 

Sam shot his brother a dirty look, “Yeah, I bet you did,” he grumbled. 

Dean turned his head, looking back over his shoulder at Sam. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked; brow furrowed in confusion. 

Sam scowled at his brother’s back, “You know damn well what it means.” 

Dean turned, lowering the EMF detector as he faced his brother, brow knitting as he frowned and shook his head. 

“No, I don’t,” he insisted, opening his arms wide for a moment before lowering them. “Why don’t you tell me what it means.” 

Sam scoffed disgustedly, slightly slanted eyes tightening, “You think I’m blind?” 

Dean’s brows rose, “No, I think you’re a little weird,” he muttered sarcastically, his lips curved downward in a thoughtful frown, “but not blind.” 

“So, you‘re tellin’ me you weren’t just hittin’ on her, Dean?” Sam accused. 

Dean huffed out a breath and shook his head, “No, I wasn’t,” he argued before starting to turn back around. 

Sam watched his brother a moment as he turned around facing away from him before he spoke, “What’s her neck look like, Dean?” He asked knowing damn well his brother had a serious neck fetish and it would be the first thing he’d check out. 

The elder Winchester’s smile was nearly broad enough to be seen even with his back turned, his entire posture shifting. 

Sam nodded, “I thought so,” he answered softly. 

Dean turned around then, his gaze meeting Sam’s, “What? Yeah, okay, so I looked, you look…” he said simply before his brow creased with uncertainty, “Don’t ya?” 

Sam sighed as he shook his head, “No, Dean,” he answered softly, “I don’t.” 

Dean frowned incredulously at his brother, “What does he mean, ‘no, Dean, I don’t’? Of course he does, he’s not _dead_ ,” Dean muttered under his breath as he dropped his gaze before lifting it to his brother’s back as he walked away. 

“Sam, wait,” Dean called after him only to have Sam continue walking away without a backward glance. 

_‘Sonuvabitch!’_ Dean growled to himself huffing angrily before he turned back around. _‘Fine, he wants to pout over nothin’, no problem, hope he has a damn good time,’_ Dean thought disgustedly, it wasn’t like he’d _done_ anything, goddammit. 

Abram had been in the process of walking Sam into the Inn with the promise of showing him to his and Dean’s room when the Abram had gotten a call on his cell and excused himself, stating that he would be right back. That had been when Sam had continued into the main lobby and found his brother eye fucking Kelley as they crouched together in the middle of the floor. 

He frowned at that memory and sighed softly as he continued walking toward the area they’d seen Kelley disappear into intent on finding out exactly what was back there and if there were others here. He knew that his brother didn’t get it, didn’t understand what the issue was with his ‘innocent looking’, although he also knew that if Dean had caught him doing the same thing, he’d be faced with Dean’s sarcasm, snark and harsh not-so-funny jokes that would all be at his expense. For some unexplainable reason Dean couldn’t seem to understand that he felt the same way, that he loved Dean just as much as his brother professed to love him.

“At least I’m not ashamed to have people see you touch me,” Sam muttered under his breath. 

He reached the archway where Kelley had turned to the right, turning his head to look in that direction, seeing what appeared to be the hinged swinging door of the establishment’s kitchen, a rusted old stove visible through the round window in the door. 

He was about to turn and head in that direction when Abram’s voice boomed from beside him. 

“Sam, I found you,” Abram greeted cheerfully, his words mixed in with the chatting of two other guys behind him. 

Sam startled slightly as his head snapped back in the direction Abram had silently appeared in with two others they hadn’t seen before in tow.

Abram’s eyes darted from Sam to the two behind him and back, a smile on his face. 

“Sorry about that, after the call Cody and David arrived and I had to greet them too,” Abram explained. “You wanna come with?” he asked with a jerk of his head back the way Sam had come, “I’m gonna show these two to a room. I can take you to one for you and your brother; you can put your stuff down.” 

Sam tore his gaze from Abram and the others to glance at his bag hanging off his shoulder before he looked back, brow creasing thoughtfully before he gave a small nod. 

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. 

“Great,” said Abram, looking between Sam and Cody and David. 

“Uh, Cody, this is Sam, Sam, Cody,” Abram introduced, nodding from Sam to the first kid, a guy with sort cropped dark hair of medium stature, muscled and deeply tanned. His bright blue gaze met Sam’s as he smiled and leaned forward, extending a hand for Sam to shake. 

“Sam,” Cody greeted, giving a small nod as he shook Sam’s hand briefly before releasing and letting it fall to his side.

“David, Sam, Sam, David,” Abram finished the introductions, nodding to each in turn. 

David took a small step forward, offering a hand for Sam to shake as he nodded, his brown eyes meeting Sam’s hazel, “Sam,” he muttered, “good ta meet ya,” he offered, shaking the younger Winchester’s hand. 

Sam returned the nod as he shook David’s hand, the blond haired man standing to nearly his height, his frame toned and slender, like a swimmer’s. 

Abram looked from one to the other as Sam and David released one another’s hands, turning their expectant attention to him, waiting to be led to rooms so they could all put their things down, the other two man carrying duffel bags and backpacks as well. 

Abram smiled as he looked from one to the other before stepping past them all and heading back toward the main lobby, “Okay, this way,” he announced over his shoulder as he walked. 

The three men that Abram left behind him all looked at one another, sighing heavily before following after their host. Sam was the last to follow, turning his head, his attention once more focused on the kitchen, or what of it he could see through the small kitchen door window. His brow furrowed in curiosity as he watched Kelley walk around the room, obviously talking to someone he couldn’t see until the brunette woman paced past the window. Sam’s head drew back slightly in mild surprise; he hadn’t seen this girl before. 

“Sam, you comin’?” Abram called back, drawing Sam’s attention away from the kitchen as he looked back toward Abram and the others as they paused, waiting for him. 

“Uh, yeah, comin’,” he answered, giving the kitchen area one last glance though he no longer could see either Kelley nor the new girl. With a sigh, Sam tore his gaze away and started forward, crossing the distance between himself and the others. 

Looking once more off in the direction Sam had disappeared in, Dean huffed in irritation and side stepped toward the old faded red sofa that sat before the cold dark large fireplace and allowed the duffel straps to slide down off his arm, plopping his bag and the heavy weapons duffle down on one of the cushions, the weight of the weapons duffle stirring up dust and the strong scent of mold and decay from the sofa. 

His hand lifted to his mouth, cupped into a fist that he coughed into as his opposite hand swatting away the dust that exploded up from the sofa in front of him. 

Hearing voices coming toward him, Dean’s eyes lifted from the offending sofa, his eyes falling on Sam as he walked toward him along with Abram and two other guys Dean hadn’t seen before. He quickly pocketed the EMF detector as they all walked toward him, his gaze meeting his brother’s before Sam purposefully looked away. Dean clenched his teeth in frustration at his brother before he turned his attention to the others with him, plastering on a fake wide charming smile. 

“What happened, party start without me?” Dean asked, brow creasing as he looked from Abram to the other two men. 

“Oh,” Abram smiled wide, “uh, Dean, right?” He asked, gaining the elder Winchester‘s attention. 

Dean merely quirked a brow, his eyes sliding from Abram back to the other two, “Yeah, m’Dean,” he agreed. “And you two are?” He asked, eyeing them both suspiciously. 

“Uh, Dean,” Abram spoke up, “this is Cody and David. Guys, this is Sam’s brother, Dean.” 

The three of them stood staring at one another for a moment before David took a step forward toward Dean and offered his hand for Dean to shake. 

“David, nice to meet you,” David offered. 

Dean’s brow quirked and glanced over at his brother who was being awfully quiet before returning his attention to the geek patrol and the hand extended toward him which he looked down at but didn’t take. 

David dropped his hand awkwardly when Dean didn’t return the gesture. 

Dean's gaze rose to David’s face as he gave a small nod, “Yeah,” he muttered, “you too.” 

He turned his head, looking over at his brother, dismissing the others for the moment at least. 

“Did you want to,” Dean paused, glancing over at the others before returning his attention to Sam, “want to take that look around with me?” He asked pointedly. 

Sam’s lips parted to answer though Abram cut him off before he had a chance to get a word out. 

“I’m showin’ the guys to their rooms, you wanna join?” He asked, “See where you and Sam’ll be staying?” 

Dean looked over at Abram before returning his attention to Sam, quirking a brow. 

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes, “He figured since we’re brother’s we might want to room.” Sam explained grumpily. _‘No, I didn’t tell him your damn secret,’_ Sam thought as he sighed heavily and turned his head, looking away, toward the hall that Abram said led to all the rooms. 

Dean frowned thoughtfully and nodded before his lips quirked upward at the corner in a slight grin as he shrugged a shoulder, “Oh, yeah, right,” he agreed, flashing Abram a fake smile. 

Sam scoffed and shook his head at his brother before starting down the hallway, leaving the others to either follow him or not, he really didn’t care, he just needed to be away from Dean for a few minutes and get his head straight. 

Dean turned his attention to his brother, watching him walk off before he looked back at Abram and the others. His gaze fell to the duffel bags on the sofa as he reached for the straps, shouldering them both before lifting his eyes once more. 

“Let’s go,” he mumbled, before turning and following Sam down the hall. 

The long hallway turned an immediate right and opened up substantially wider; likely to accommodate all the weary travelers walking up and down the hall going to and from the rooms that flanked each side; though each of the doors were closed up tight.

“Uh, do we just pick one?” Sam asked, looking back over his shoulder at Abram. 

Abram hurried past the others to the front, falling into step beside Sam, “I actually have another wing that I sort of cleared and cleaned up for us to use,” he explained, “ya know, fresh sheets on the beds, dusted some of the cobwebs out of the way for the girls,” he said with a shrug. 

Sam turned his head toward Abram, looking down at him, since the guy was only about shoulder height on him and gave a small nod. 

Sam paused at what seemed to be the end of the hall as the passageway veered off to the left and the right, his attention returning to Abram as he raised his brows in question before asking, “Which way?”

“Left,” Abram answered as he turned to the left, “this is behind the kitchen area, I figured if anyone wanted to go there it’s be easier this way,” he explained as he lead them all down the hall before he stopped and turned once he stood in the middle of the hallway. 

“This is it, take any room ya like,” he announced, lips curved into a wide proud smile. 

Dean stepped up next to Sam, “Top’a the hall?” Dean whispered out of the corner of his mouth since Abram seemed to be enjoying watching as they all chose a room. 

Sam gave a small nod, “Closest to the exit?”

“We can make sure it stays clear that way,” Dean agreed. 

Sam nodded. “Got it,” he muttered turning back toward the first two rooms that they had past, stopping to peer inside first one then the other. 

The room on the left had only a king sized bed in it, which if Dean wasn’t so adamant that they not let on that they were together and had said something like ‘boyfriend’ instead of brother, would have worked out fine, but now it was a definite no go. Luckily the room to the right had two double beds in it. 

“This one,” Sam muttered as he turned and walked into the room heading toward the bed furthest away from the door out of habit. 

Dean followed his brother into the room, closing and locking the door behind himself before walking over to the first bed, his attention lowered as he lifted the two duffels he was carrying up and allowed their straps slide off his shoulder, dumping them onto the bed. 

Looking up at his brother, Dean quirked a brow. “So, you wanna talk about this?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

Sam looked up at his brother from where he was unzipping his duffel and shook his head. 

“Nothin’ really to say, is there?” He asked, brows raised. 

Dean scoffed softly and shifted his weight, “Look, you’re pissed at me, I get that,” he acknowledged with a nod, “but it didn’t mean anything,” he insisted as he stepped around the bed and closed the distance between himself and Sam. 

Sam took a small step back away from his brother, lips pressed in a thin line as he gave a nod. 

“And if it was me,” he asked, slowly lifting his gaze to meet Dean’s, “you’d be okay with that?” 

Dean’s brow creased in slight confusion, “What? Yes… no… I dunno,” he spat. “Look,” Dean started, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he lifted a hand, cupping Sam’s neck, his fingers wrapping around his brother’s nape, thumb brushing softly against Sam’s jaw, “all I know is I want you,” he murmured, “just you,” he added as he searched his brother’s face. 

He let his hand fall away from Sam’s neck with a sigh, “Old habits,” he muttered with a shrug, “s’all it was.” 

Sam’s eyes tightened as he looked at his brother, brow furrowing with skepticism. He huffed out a breath, lips curving into a humorless smile before his tongue darted out to lick them. 

“Old habits, Dean?” he asked incredulously, “You really expect me to believe that was all that was, that you weren’t eye fucking the hell out of her when I walked up? 

Dean’s brows rose as his lips curved down into a frown, taken slightly aback by Sam’s question. 

“Well… yeah,” he answered with a shrug. 

Sam huffed and shook his head, “Unbelievable,” he muttered, stepping around his brother, heading for the door. 

Dean turned, eyes slightly widened with shock as he watched his brother walk past him. 

“Sam, wait,” he called after his brother before his hand snaked out, snagging hold of Sam’s wrist, stopping him. 

Sam paused in his steps, his annoyed gaze dropping from Dean’s face to his brother’s hand gripping his wrist before he lifted his eyes once more to glare at Dean, jaw clenched stubbornly. 

“I meant what I said,” Dean murmured, shaking his head, his eyes imploring his brother to believe him. 

“How do I know you’re not gonna slide even more into those old habits while we’re here, Dean? If you want out, just say so, don’t go sneaking around behind my back chasing tail,” Sam spat angrily. 

Dean stepped closer to his brother, standing toe to toe with him, his hand still wrapped around Sam’s wrist. He looked up into his brother’s face and slowly shook his head, “I don’t want out,” he confirmed, his hand sliding up Sam’s wrist then his arm, moving to cup the side of his brother’s neck. “And I’m not gonna slide back into doing that,” he mumbled softly, slowly leaning in, “I just want you,” Dean murmured before slanting his mouth over Sam’s, tongue darting out to lick across the seam of his brother’s lips and into his mouth. He slid his tongue along side Sam’s, the tip tickling across the roof of his brother’s mouth before tangling it with Sam’s own, a low moan breaking from his throat to be swallowed up in the kiss. 

Sam slowly relaxed into Dean’s kiss, his arms lifting hesitantly to wrap around his brother, possessively pulling Dean in, crushing his brother’s body up against his long frame, an answering moan of his own tumbling from his lips as he returned his brother’s kiss, softly sucking at the tip of Dean’s tongue as he gave as good as he got. 

Sam tore his lips from Dean’s, his breaths panting out between softly parted lips, much like his brother’s, their breaths mixing and mingling as they gazed at one another through passion heavy eyes. 

“Show me,” Sam whispered thickly. 

Dean’s brow furrowed just slightly for a moment, ‘ _Kinda thought I was…_ ’ he thought before glancing back over his shoulder toward the bed, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as an idea struck him before he returned his attention to his brother and gave a curt nod, tongue darting out to lick across his full slightly kiss swollen lips. 

“’Kay,” he answered softly, his hand trailing down Sam’s chest from his neck before Dean reached for his brother’s wrist again, taking a step backward, pulling Sam along with him toward the bed. 

Sam’s booted feet shuffled forward across the faded and worn wood floor, his gaze locked with Dean’s as they made their way over to the bed, stopping as the back of Dean’s calves hit the edge of the mattress. 

Slowly he sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand releasing Sam’s wrist to fall onto his lap, his gaze still locked with his brother’s, “Strip for me, Sammy,” Dean directed, his voice a low rumble in his throat.

The deep timbre of Dean’s voice vibrated through Sam’s body, along his nerve endings even from where he stood sending blood shooting due south making his cock twitch in response. 

Sam hissed in a needy breath through parted lips, his cheeks flushing softly though due to shyness or arousal Dean wasn’t totally certain, likely a bit of both he deduced as his gaze dropped briefly to the growing bulge in the front of his brother’s jeans before his eyes, the pupils slightly lust blown; eating up the brilliant grass green hue of his irises returned to his brother’s equally lust blown hazels. 

Sam licked his lips nervously, his head turning toward the door briefly, causing Dean’s gaze to follow his brother’s before he returned his attention to Sam’s face just as he looked back at Dean. 

He watched Sam’s throat convulse as he swallowed hard and reached up, grabbing each side of his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders, his gaze intent on Dean. He allowed the jacket to slip down his back and onto the floor behind him as he worked his arms free of the material before reaching up for the buttons of his over shirt; long fingers deftly working to unfasten the small pearlescent fastenings one at a time. 

Dean shot back on the bed, a soft sigh tumbling from his lips as he reached for the ties to his boots, unfastening them and slipping them off one at a time, though his gaze remained on his brother. 

Both boots removed, Dean slid back further on the bed, his back against the head board, legs out straight before him and crossed at the ankles, he crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Sam shrug out of his over shirt, the pin striped material falling to the floor at Sam’s feet to pool atop his jacket, their attention remaining laser focused on one another.

Sam’s hands lowered to the fastenings of his jeans, popping the button open before he started lowering the zipper. 

“Uh-uh,” Dean interjected, a frown pulling at his lips as he uncrossed one arm to point at Sam, “t-shirt first,” he instructed before lowering his hand and crossing his arm back over his chest. 

Sam’s brows rose at Dean’s ‘uh-uh’, uncertain what he was doing wrong, his hands pausing in mid motion until his brother pointed out what he wanted. Sam pressed his lips together after a soft huff and reached for the hem of his tee pulling it up and over his head, tossing it down onto the growing pile on the floor. 

He lifted his brows questioningly at Dean once more for his brother’s ‘go ahead’ and was rewarded with a wide grin that light up Dean’s face and made the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle as he nodded his approval. 

Sam couldn’t help the lopsided grin that pulled at his lips at his brother’s wide smile. Dean was really beautiful when he smiled like that. Well, he was always beautiful and damn sexy, but there was just something about his brother’s smile, a real one like that, it seemed to light up his entire face. 

His hands retuned to the zipper of his jeans, unzipping it the remainder of the way before Sam slid his thumbs under the waistband and over to the sides, slowly pushing the denim down his hips as he stared unflinchingly into his brother’s eyes, watched as Dean pulled and arm from across his chest to reach down and cup his hardening cock through the denim of his own jeans, which twitched as he gave himself a gentle squeeze, a low moan breaking from his throat as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Sam froze at the sound of his brother’s moan, his jeans half way down his thighs, his gaze dropped from Dean’s face to his hand that was cupping his dick through denim. Breath left Sam in a rush as desire surged through him, causing his own cock to twitch and pulse, leaking precum in the cotton of his boxers, his own soft moan spilling from his throat, lips softly parted as his breaths came marginally faster, his eyes darting up to meet Dean’s. 

Dean’s lips quirked just slightly at the corner as he continued to bite his lip; watching his brother, hearing the sharp intake of breath, the low moan that followed after. His gaze dropped to the front of Sam’s boxers that were now visible with his jeans pushed out of the way, drawing in an appreciative breath, nostrils flaring. He let his lip slowly slide out from between his teeth, his tongue darting out to lick them as he stared wantonly at the way his brother’s boxers were tenting before his eyes slowly slid up his brother’s body like a caress, finally meeting Sam’s eyes once more.

“You want it, Sammy?” He rasped softly, giving his own now throbbing hard cock another squeeze through his jeans. 

Sam swallowed hard, his eyes darting back down to his brother’s hand cupping himself and nodded before his gaze moved back to his brother’s face, "Yeah," he breathed, leaning forward and shifting to climb up onto the bed only to stumble around his half stripped jeans. 

Dean’s arms uncrossed, planting his hands palms flat against the mattress, moving quickly forward to the end of the bed, his hands lifting to grip Sam’s hips. 

“Whoa, hold on,” Dean murmured, “I gotcha, I gotcha,” he muttered, his eyes darting between his brother’s face and his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. 

He slid his hands down from his brother’s hips to the waistband of his jeans, tugging them down further until they were pooled around Sam’s knees. Dean slid his hands back up his brother’s legs, moving them to grip Sam’s hips once more before his eyes flickered up to meet Sam’s briefly. Lowering his gaze once more, Dean leaned in, eyes sliding closed, mouth slanting over his brother’s cotton covered shaft, hot breath fanning out against Sam’s cock as he mouthed his brother’s hard length. 

Sam gasped in a breath, his head snapping back, lips parting on a deep low groan, his hands lifting to Dean’s shoulder’s, fingers twisting the fabric of his brother’s jacket. 

“God, Dean…” Sam panted, his cock twitching against his brother’s mouth, precum leaking from the tip, leaving a small stain against the dark fabric of his boxers. 

Dean’s tongue darted out to lick along his brother’s length through the cotton, a soft hot puffed breath seeping through the material against his brother’s shaft as Dean’s lips quirked just slightly at his brother’s reaction, a soundless smug chuckle working out of him. 

One hand pulled from Sam’s hip, reaching down, cupping his brother’s balls through the material of his boxers, squeezing softly as he moaned against Sam’s cock, lips wrapping around the tip, sucking in the cotton along with the crown of Sam’s cock. 

Sam hissed in a breath, his hips bucking his cock toward his brother’s mouth, wanting more, needing more. His head lifted and lolled forward, looking down at his brother, breaths panted out from between parted lips, cheeks flushed with passion. 

He slowly released his grip on Dean’s jacket with one hand and reached up, running his fingers through the soft spiky strands of his brother’s hair, short blunt nails scraping against Dean’s scalp before he curled his fingers into the locks near the top of his brother’s head where his hair was the thickest, though many of the short strands simply slipped through his fingers. 

Pulling his hand away from Sam’s balls, Dean released the tip of his brother’s cock letting it fall from between his lips and lowered his head, mouthing against his brother’s balls through the fabric of his boxers, hot breath fanning through the fibers, his hand rising to grip Sam’s dick through the material and squeeze gently, thumb brushing back and forth across the tip. 

Sam pressed his lips tightly together, fighting against the whimper that threatened to spill out, but not having much success, his brow creasing as his head lolled back, a whimper tore from his throat through parted lips, mouth falling slack as he panted, chest rising and falling with each one. 

Dean opened his mouth against Sam’s balls, sucking one in through the cotton, a low moan tearing from his throat. 

Sam’s hand that was twisted in the material of his brother’s jacket tightened, knuckles turning white as he grit his teeth, a low growled groan tearing from his lips, his hips bucking gently. 

“Dean… God please…” He breathed hoarsely.

His hand moved from his brother’s hair, reaching for the elastic of his boxers, thumb catching the waistband and tugging the front down, exposing his pubic hair and the base of his cock. 

“S - s - suck me, Dean…” Sam panted, thickly, his throat convulsing as he swallowed afterward, tongue darting out to lick across his parched lips. 

Pulling his head back, his brother’s ball falling from his lips, Dean’s eyes slid open to look up at Sam as his hand released his brother’s cock, reaching up, swatting Sam’s hand away from his boxers, the elastic snapping back against his brother’s body. He snagged hold of Sam’s wrist, slipping his hand down into his brother’s, holding it within his own to keep Sam from being able to do anything else with it before he leaned back in and gently ran his teeth along the side of his brother’s cock through the cotton material, mouthing against his length afterward, suckling at the side of Sam’s shaft. 

Sam’s breath caught in his throat as his brother raked his teeth along the side of his cock through his boxers, his knees felt ready to give out on him causing him to have to lock them back, body trembling, the fingers of his hand holding Dean’s digging into his brother’s hand as he inhaled sharply, hips bucking. 

“Oh God, Dean, please…” he nearly whined, eyes squeezing tightly closed, teeth catching hold of his bottom lip, nostrils flaring with his panted breaths. 

Dean pulled his mouth away from his brother’s cock, his head back from the spit and precum dampened material of his brother’s boxers, his eyes darting upward as he looked at Sam over his brows. He released his brother’s hand, easing his own free from Sam’s tight grasp as his opposite hand drew away from his brother’s hip, reaching for the waistband of Sam’s boxers, thumbs tucking in under the elastic before he slowly pulled them down, watching as his brother’s cock sprung free from it’s cotton confinement, his brother’s hard length bobbing slightly as it was released, standing proudly erect out from his body and arching upward toward his stomach. 

He licked his lips as he eyed his brother’s hard cock, the head nearly purple with how hard he was; the tip shiny with precum. 

“Fuck, Sammy…” Dean muttered huskily. 

Sam slowly lifted his head before bowing it, his eyes blinking open, looking down the length of his body at his hard throbbing cock, his gaze swinging to his brother’s face as his tongue darted out to lick across his lips. 

“Need you… want you so bad, Dean…” Sam rasped softly, his hand on his brother’s shoulder tightening his grip as he moved his opposite hand toward Dean’s face, index finger trailing over his brother’s bottom lip.

Dean’s gaze flickered up to meet Sam’s before lowering to his brother’s finger briefly only to return once more to Sam’s face. His tongue darted out to tease at the tip of his brother’s finger as Sam ran it over his lip before catching it and sucking the digit into his mouth, cheeks hallowing out, eyes laser focused on Sam’s. 

Sam gasped in a breath, his hips bucking of their own accord, precum sliding like melted candle wax from the tip of his painfully hard cock, eyes nearly rolling back in his head before he closed them tight, a guttural groan tearing from his throat. 

Releasing the single digit, Dean allowed it to fall from between his lips, a gossamer web-like strand of spittle clung to the tip of Sam’s finger and Dean’s bottom lip as Sam pulled it away, hand moving to grip his brother’s opposite shoulder. 

Lifting his hands from where he’d shoved his brother’s boxers down atop his jeans at his knees; Dean slid one hand up the back of Sam’s thigh as he wrapped the other around his brother’s shaft and squeezed gently. 

Sam’s breaths hitched, his stomach muscles rippled, breaths panting out harshly before his eyes slid open, brow creased in a look of near pain as he looked down at his throbbing cock, hips bucking, struggling to force his brother’s fisted hand to stroke him. 

“Fuck, Dean, please…” he begged wantonly. 

Running his hand up the back of his brother’s thigh to his ass, Dean cupped one of his brother’s cheeks, squeezing the firm globe within his hand as his opposite slowly began to slide along his brother’s length. 

Sam gasped out a breath, body shuddering at the intensity of feeling, heat searing through his veins to pool low, his cock pulsing in his brother’s fisted hand, precum leaking from the tip. His hips bucked shoving his cock into his brother’s fist in quick hard thrusts, low moans and soft mewled sounds breaking from his throat that escaped through softly parted lips. 

Dean’s gaze flickered between Sam’s face and his dick as he stroked him, his own breaths coming faster through softly parted lips, his cock hard and heavy between his legs, pulsing and twitching, pressing painfully against his zipper as he watched his brother. 

“Jesus, Sammy,” Dean rasped thickly, swallowing hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “y’so fuckin’ hot…” 

A whimper tore from Sam’s throat as he felt the familiar feeling of heat pooling low in his stomach and knew it wouldn’t be long before he was coming. One hand started to release his brother’s shoulder on one side to reach back and grip the base of his cock to stop himself from coming only to stop and tighten his grip, teeth gritting together as he felt Dean move his hand away from his ass and cup his balls. 

“OhmyGod,” Sam groaned, the words torn from deep in his throat, hips bucking erratically fast and hard. 

Dean swallowed and licked his lips before lowering his head, wrapping his lips around his brother’s cock, taking it deep into his mouth and sucking hard, his hand chasing after him mouth as he bobbed his head up and down his brother’s length. 

Sam’s eyes shot open wide, “Dean!” He cried out just before the first rope of cum left his cock, shooting down his brother’s throat. He squeezed his eyes closed, hips bucking, his hands white knuckle gripping the shoulders of Dean’s jacket, nipples pebble hard, face flushed a deep crimson. 

Dean moaned softly, drinking down every drop his brother had to give him, continuing to work Sam’s dick with his mouth and his hand until Sam’s body went limp, nearly collapsing against his own. He pulled his head back allowing his brother’s spent cock to fall from between his lips only to have to catch Sam as he slumped more forward against him, knocking him back against the mattress. With his arms wrapped tightly around his brother, Dean pulled Sam down with him, both their legs hanging down off the side of the bed, Sam’s upper body blanketing his own. 

One hand lifted to the back of Sam’s head, running down over his brother’s hair as Sam lay panting, his body limp like a rag doll, face turned against Dean’s neck. 

Dean’s lips quirked upward at one corner in a small smirk, “Now do ya believe me?” He mumbled. 

Sam nodded, a small grunt of affirmation leaving him before he blew out a hot breath against his brother’s neck and nuzzled closer, lips weakly pressing against his brother’s neck in an attempted kiss.

“I love you,” Sam mumbled against his brother’s skin. 

Dean drew in a deep breath through his nose, moving his hand from Sam’s hair to wrap back around his brother, hugging him up against his body as he exhaled through parted lips. 

He gave a small nod and swallowed feeling slightly awkward as he always did, it wasn’t that he didn’t love Sam, he did, more than anyone or anything, he just didn’t go around saying it; he figured it was one of those things you just kinda knew. “I love you too, Sammy,” he murmured, turning his head to press his lips to his brother’s temple in a soft chaste kiss. 

His breathing having returned to normal, heart rate slowing once more to an acceptable rate, Sam stirred, lifting his head to look down at his brother, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips. 

Dean grinned up at his brother, “You looked fucked out,” he commented with a soft snicker. 

“Heh, I feel fucked out,” Sam confirmed before dipping his head and slanting his mouth over his brother’s, tongue darting into Dean’s mouth, tangling with his brother’s own, tasting the musky sweet tang of his release on Dean’s tongue. 

Dean moaned into the kiss, palms sliding down Sam’s bare back, cupping his ass and pressing him down against his hard cock as Dean bucked his hips upward against his brother, a deep grunted groan tearing from his throat. 

Sam tore his lips away from Dean’s, gasping in a startled breath, eyes wide as he looked down at his brother before rolling his body partly to the side, causing his brother’s grip on his ass to fall away, his gaze lowering to the obvious bulge in the front of Dean’s jeans where his cock strained painfully against his zipper. 

“Jesus, Dean…” Sam breathed, his eyes lifting back to his brother’s face. 

Dean grinned sheepishly, “Heh, yeah, that’s, uh, not my gun,” he mumbled, shrugging a shoulder afterward. 

“Yeah… no kidding,” Sam rasped dryly before rolling back onto his brother and shimmying down Dean’s body. 

“Scoot up,” Sam directed as he glanced up at his brother, nodding his head toward the pillows above Dean’s head, his eyes briefly meeting Dean’s before lowering his gaze once more. 

Dean turned his head, looking up toward the pillows and braced his hands against the mattress sliding his body back before returning his attention to Sam, watching his brother straddle his thighs as he laid his head back on one of the thick pillows that Abram had obviously supplied for this little sleep over. His teeth scrapped over his bottom lip as he watched Sam reach for the fastenings of his jeans, long nimble fingers deftly working open the button and lowering the zipper. 

Sam dipped his head, pressing his lips to his brother’s skin just above the elastic of his boxers, tongue darting out to make swirl patterns against Dean’s flesh, his hands gripping his brother’s hips and sliding upward, thumbs dipping down to hook under the elastic of Dean’s boxers, lifting it slightly allowing Sam’s tongue to dip lower teasing the area just above his brother’s pubic hair. 

Sucking in a hissed breath through his teeth, Dean lifted his head up off the pillow to look down his body at Sam, breaths panting softly out, his cock twitching at his brother’s teasing. 

Dean’s hips bucked marginally upward though Sam held onto them, pinning them slightly to the mattress as he continued to tease his brother. 

“Fuck, Sammy, c’mon…” Dean growled huskily. 

Sam’s eyes darted upward, looking up at his brother from under his brows, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk before he withdrew his tongue and lifted his head, pulling his thumbs out from the elastic of Dean’s boxers, his hands shifted to his brother’s jeans, fingers curling over the waistband and tugging downward. 

Dean lifted his hips up off the bed to aid his brother in pulling his jeans down, a soft sigh escaping his lips once the rough denim was no longer pressing against his aching erection. He bucked his hips at his brother, eyes imploring Sam to get on with it and suck him off. 

Pulling his brother’s jeans down, Sam scooted back a little as he brought the denim down to Dean’s knees before reaching up for his brother’s boxers, his eyes catching Dean’s and spotting the look Dean was giving him. 

His lips quirked upward at the corners as he grabbed the elastic waistband of his brother’s boxers, his eyes still locked with Dean’s. 

“Impatient much?” He inquired with a small soft sicker. 

Dean’s eyes narrowed, bow creasing as he scowled at his brother, “Do you even know me?” 

Sam’s answer was a soft husky chuckle as he nodded, returning his attention to his brother’s boxers, pulling them down as Dean lifted his hips once more. 

His gaze was riveted on his brother’s thick hard cock as it sprung free of the cotton confinement, standing proudly erect and arching upward toward his stomach, causing Sam to subconsciously lick his lips before he tore his eyes away to glance up at his brother’s smug grin.

“Ya want me, Sammy?” Dean asked thickly, his voice a soft rumble. 

“Fuck yeah… I do,” Sam murmured huskily before dropping his gaze and lowering his head, tongue darting out, licking a broad stripe up the underside of his brother’s dick. 

Dean gasped in a breath, hips jerking upward toward the wet heat of Sam’s mouth and tongue, one hand lifting from the bed, reaching for his brother, fingers tangling in the soft strands of Sam’s hair as he hissed in a breath through his teeth before catching his bottom lip between them and biting into the tender flesh, his eyes riveted on the sight of his brother lapping at his cock. 

Sam moaned as he ran his tongue over Dean’s cock, lapping at it like an ice cream cone, base to tip, over and over again, tongue swirling around the crown each time he reached it, and with each pass eliciting a sharply drawn breath from his brother. 

Dean groaned, his fingers curling into a fist in Sam’s hair, hips bucking upward, begging for more, cock twitching with each teasing swirl of his brother’s tongue. 

Wrapping the long fingers of one hand around the base of Dean’s shaft, Sam reached for his brother’s balls with his opposite, rolling them in his fingers and squeezing gently before parting his lips and taking Dean’s thick cock deep into his mouth, swallowing against his brother’s length as the tip of his dick bottomed out against the back of Sam’s throat. 

Gasping in a sharp breath, Dean clenched his teeth tightly together, head pressing back against the pillow, neck arching, hips thrusting upward of their own accord; his grip tightened in Sam’s hair, cock pulsing in his brother’s mouth, a growled groan tearing from his throat. 

Sam hummed as he pulled his head back, sucking Dean’s cock, cheeks hallowing out; his fisted hand chasing after his mouth; stroking his brother with firm hard pulls along his length. 

Dean’s gaze lowered, his eyes riveted on the sight of his brother’s lips stretched around his dick and the way Sam’s cheeks hallowed out, drawing sun kissed skin taunt over sharp cheek bones as his brother sucked his cock. The soft sounds of Sam slurping mixed with his low hums and Dean’s own grunted moans and soft groans filled the otherwise silence of the room as his brother worked at his dick; stroking him with his fisted hand and suckling at his length, the tip of his tongue flicking along the underside of Dean’s shaft. 

Sam’s thumb pressed hard against his brother’s perineum as he cupped Dean’s balls, short blunt nails dragging along the underside before he gently squeezed them in his palm. Low deep moans tore from Sam’s throat mixing with his hums, rivulets of his saliva trickling down the sides Dean’s shaft as he quickened his pace, his head bobbing more rapidly, his wrist pivoting with each stroke of his fisted hand along his brother’s length. 

Breathless grunted moans and groans tumbled from Dean’s lips, back arching, his eyes squeezing closed, head pressing back against the pillows, his nostrils flared as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth before slowly allowing it to slip free, breaths panting out between parted lips. His hand not tangled in his brother’s hair lifted from atop the comforter, running palms flat down his chest, hips thrusting his cock harder and faster into his brother’s warm, wet, suction tight mouth. 

His cock pulsed, heat pooling low in his groin, face flushing, making his freckles more pronounced as he writhed and strained upward, hips thrusting almost erratically, muscles tensing, nipples pebbling under the cotton fabric of his tee. 

“Oh shit… Oh fuck, Sammy,” Dean groaned hoarsely, neck arching back. “God, I’m gonna come, baby…” he breathed, head turning from one side to the other in jerky movements, balls drawing up tightly to his body, a deep guttural growl tearing from his throat as he grit his teeth. “Sammy… m’gonna come,” he groaned, the words torn from his throat, hips bucking his cock hard into his brother’s mouth, his hand in Sam’s hair clenching tightly just before the first ribbon of cum shot from his cock painting the back of his brother’s throat. 

Sam slurped and swallowed down each rope of cum that shot from his brother’s cock as he continued to work Dean through his orgasm, his fisted hand sliding along his brother’s shaft, chasing after his mouth, his opposite hand squeezing and massaging his balls. 

The rhythm of Sam’s fisted hand and his mouth slowed along with the thrusting of his brother’s hips as Dean’s orgasm subsided. He slowly pulled his head back allowing his brother’s cock to fall from between his spit wet lips once Dean stilled, his hand releasing it’s grip and sliding from Sam’s hair to fall onto the bed, body spent and sated, relaxing against back the mattress. Releasing his brother’s balls, Sam raised his hand, wiping the drool from his lips and chin then lowered it, palm flat against the bed, his opposite hand releasing it’s hold on Dean’s cock and lowering in a mirror position of it’s twin on the opposite side of his brother’s body before he leaned forward, hands sliding against the soft material of the comforter as he moved, easing himself down onto his brother, his body blanketing Dean’s. 

Dean body jerked slightly when Sam lowered himself down before a weary smile tugged at the corners of his softly parted lips as he fought to catch his panted breaths. His arm lazily lifted from the bed, draping over Sam’s body, holding him close as his heavily lidded eyes slid open, looking up at his brother. 

Sam’s lips curved upward in an affectionate smile as he gazed down at his brother. 

“Now who looks fucked out?” He asked with a soft husky chuckle.

Dean’s eyes narrowed, brow quirking, “Eh, blow me,” he snorted, closing his eyes once more. 

Sam chuckled, “I think I just did,” he teased before dipping his head, lips pressing a gentle kiss to his brother’s, tongue darting out to lick across Dean’s full bottom lip and flick against the seam, licking his way into his brother’s mouth, his tongue tangling with Dean’s as low moans broke from both their throats. 

Dean’s arm around his brother tightened, his opposite arm joining the first, hands splayed palms flat against the naked flesh of Sam’s back as he returned his brother’s kiss, tongue sliding against Sam’s and tangling together, giving as good as he got. One hand slid up Sam’s back, fingers threading into the soft strands of his brother’s hair at the back of his head, digits tangling in his brother’s thick locks as he deepened the kiss, teeth scraping lightly against lips and knocking together. 

He captured his brother’s bottom lip with his own, suckling softly before releasing as the kiss slowly ended, lungs burning with the need for oxygen. 

Sam pulled his head marginally back as they ended the kiss, his eyes locking with Dean’s, their breaths mixing and mingling, panting out through parted lips, breathing in one another’s breaths. 

Dean’s hand pulled from his brother’s hair, sliding down to cup the side of Sam’s face, his eyes darting over, watching as his thumb slowly moved, brushing back along his brother’s prominent cheek bone before his eyes swung back to meet Sam’s once more, the fingertips of his hand against his brother’s back gripping tighter. 

Sam leaned into his brother’s touch, cheek resting against Dean’s palm. Turning his head slightly, Sam pressed his lips against his brother’s wrist, kissing him softly, his eyes remaining laser focused on his brother’s. 

Dean’s lips curved upward at the corners softly as he gazed at Sam, unspoken love in his brilliant grass green eyes. 

Sam’s lips parted intent on reciprocating, speaking aloud the words that were made clear within the depths of his brother’s eyes, only snap closed as Dean’s hand slipped away from the side of his face, a sigh falling from his brother’s lips, Dean’s eyes dropping, hand lowering, smacking Sam’s bare ass.

“C’mon, we should get up,” Dean muttered, gently pushing Sam back as he started to sit up on the bed. 

Sam sat back on his knees watching his brother with disappointed longing in his eyes and on his face as Dean swung his legs off the side of the bed and pulled to his feet beside the bed, reaching for his boxers, pulling them up. 

He knew he shouldn’t feel the way he did, it was just the way his brother was, no chick-flick moments, but it didn’t stop him from wishing every now and then that Dean wouldn’t be so hasty to push opportunities like this away. 

Having pulled his jeans up, Dean paused in zipping them to glance up at Sam over his brows before lifting his head, his eyes on Sam’s, brow creasing softly in confusion as he eyed his brother still sitting on his knees on the bed watching him. 

“You comin’?” Dean asked, jutting his chin at Sam, nimble digits finishing with the closures of his jeans as he spoke. 

Sam snapped his parted lips closed and dropped his gaze as he nodded, “Uh, yeah,” he muttered, swinging his legs out from under him and off the side of the bed, standing to his feet. 

Dean gave a small nod, eyeing his brother a moment longer as Sam pulled up his boxers that were still spit damp before he tore his gaze away and crossed the few steps to the end if the bed, taking a seat on the edge as he reached for his boots, slipping them on one at a time. 

“So, I figure we should split up, take a good look around this place, see if we can find anything…” Dean began only to have his sentence die away as he glanced up at Sam who was frowning, his head hanging; the look on his face akin to having just smelled something sour. 

Dean quirked a brow at his brother as he sat back, letting his booted foot fall to the floor, “What?” 

Sam glanced up at his brother, shaking his head as he lifted it, “Nothin’… well, my boxers are…” he mumbled, shifting his weight, one leg bending slightly before straightening followed by the other, “wet.” 

Dean’s lips quirked upward into a wide grin, a soft chuckle working out of him before he shrugged a shoulder, returning his attention to his boots, leaning over to finish tying the second one then standing to his feet and walking toward the door, pausing as he reached his brother, one hand cupping Sam’s groin, body leaning in slightly, lips next to Sam’s ear. 

“I’m make it up to ya later,” Dean murmured in that smooth rough rumble that seemed to dance along Sam’s nerve endings, sending blood due south. 

Sam‘s breaths hitched, tongue darting out to lick across his lips, “Keep that up and you’ll be makin’ it up to me right now,” he rasped softly, eyes sliding to the side, toward his brother as Dean pulled his head back, their gazes locking. 

Dean’s lips quirked in a smug smirk, a soft scoff leaving him as his hand released his hold on his brother’s crotch and he continued past, making his way over to the door. After unlocking the door, hand on the door knob he looked back at Sam, watching his brother bend at the waist, snatching his shirts and jacket up off the floor where he’d left them in a pile, tossing them on the bed. 

Sam reached for his tee, slipping it over his head and pulling it down before turning his attention toward Dean as he reached for his over shirt and slid his arms into the sleeves, pulling it on. 

“Hold on, almost done,” he muttered, buttoning a few of the buttons of his flannel before reaching for his jacket, pulling it on as he walked toward Dean, “Okay,” he mumbled, nodding toward the door, “let’s go.” 

Dean tore his eyes away from his brother and turned his attention to the door, turning the knob and taking a step back as he pulling it open. Walking out the door of their room, Dean led the way back down the hall toward the main lobby. 

Crossing the threshold out into the hall, Sam caught the door to their room as his brother released it, pulling it closed behind him before following Dean down the hall. 

Dean and Sam stopped in their tracks as they reached the lobby, now semi full of people, mingling and laughing, each with a red plastic cup of something in their hand, wooden bowls like the one Kelley had dropped earlier, sat on the long coffee table in front of the sofa each filled with snack foods. 

Sam!” Angelo exclaimed a wide smile on his face as he spotted Sam. He stepped away from talking to a guy that neither Sam nor Dean had met yet and headed over toward them. 

All eyes seemed to turn toward Dean and Sam, looking them over curiously before Abram turned around from where he’d stood talking to David and Cody. 

“Sam,” he nodded, “Dean,” he called, a wide smile his face, “thought we’d lost you guys.” 

Dean looked over at his brother as Sam did the same, the two of them exchanging looks before looking back at Abram, Dean shrugging a shoulder and Sam shaking his head with a slight frown. 

“Nah, we just… we just were lookin’ around,” Sam mumbled the lie before clearing his throat, his brother snickering softly beside him. 

“Hi, Dean,” Kelley muttered softly as she walked past, one arm lifted, elbow bent, hand raised, fingers drumming in the air, waving daintily, a shy flirtatious smile on her face. 

Dean grinned, and lifted his own arm bent at the elbow, hand raised, wrist pivoting to the side just slightly, giving a single wave back, his eyes following after her as she walked past, hand and arm slowly lowering, his eyes glued to her ass before his brother non too nonchalantly cleared his throat beside him. 

Dean quickly lifted his opposite arm, bringing his fisted hand to his mouth, clearing his throat into it as he dragged his gaze away from Kelley’s backside to look over at Sam, brows lifting innocently. 

Angelo looked from Sam to Dean and back in slight confusion before dismissing it and reaching out, hand clasping Sam’s shoulder, “Glad you could make it, man,” he said enthusiastically, “Have you met everyone yet?” He asked, turning slightly to look back at the others. 

“Uh, not, uh, not everyone,” Sam answered, offering a forced smile and giving a small nod. 

Angelo let his hand fall from Sam’s shoulder as he turned, “Well, come on, I can introduce you around,” he offered before heading back toward the others. 

Dean huffed, “Looks like Chachi missed ya there, _Joanie_ ,” he muttered dryly. 

Sam turned his head, looking over at his brother as he gave a weary sigh, “Maybe he’s been takin’ lessons from Kelley,” he suggested sarcastically before storming away from his brother. 

Dean scoffed, frowning darkly after Sam, “He wishes,” he muttered under his breath before his eyes moved from his brother, catching sight of Kelley and two other girls watching him and smiling flirtatiously. 

Dean flashed them his most charming grin and nodded too in greeting. Glancing over at his brother, his smile fell away as his eyes caught Sam’s watching him. Face set in grim lines he crossed the room to where his brother stood with Chachi and a couple other guys he hadn’t met before. 

Sam was use to girls checking out his brother; they always did and it never seemed to fail, women were just drawn to Dean like moths to a flame. He couldn’t blame them really, but it still didn’t make the feelings of jealousy that would rise up in him any less, especially with Dean’s not wanting to touch or act like they were together in any way in front of others. He released a soft sigh as his brother walked over to him and Angelo, his eyes darting briefly over to the girls, eyes narrowing just slightly before he tore his gaze away to look back as Angelo started speaking to him and Dean. 

Angelo introduced Sam and Dean to the guests they hadn’t met yet, Jesse, a guy who was the more standoffish of all the others, tall and lanky with short cropped curling chocolate brown hair and glasses on his wide brown eyes and Jamal, a tall African-American with a shaven head and a friendly wide smile, who played basketball for the college. The two girls who had been eyeing Dean along with Kelley were Monica, a medium height girl with shoulder length dark brunette hair and piercing blue eyes, who seemed a tad conflicted about most everything and Amber, a curvaceous petite girl with long blond hair and hazel eyes who seemed to be flirting with everyone in the room.

Dean’s gaze darted over to his brother as they stood there listening as the other talked about stupid shit that Dean was no more interested in than getting a red hot poker shoved in his eye, an irritated huff falling from his lips before he returned his attention to the others and quirked a brow. 

“As fascinating as this all is,” he said with a nod, feigning interest, both brows lifting as he looked from face to face, “I gotta take a leak,” he announced before turning and starting for the hall they’d walked into the lobby down only to be cut off by Amber as she stepped in front of him.

“I’ll go with,” she offered, her eyes leisurely moving down Dean’s body appreciatively before lifting again to his face, the corners of her lips turning upward in a salacious smirk, teeth scraping slowly across her bottom lip flirtatiously. 

Dean’s lips quirked upward in a grin, his eyes roaming over Amber for a second a soft ‘heh’-ed chuckle working out of him before he took a step back from her, feeling Sam’s eyes bore into the back of his head. 

He looked back over his shoulder at his brother, before reaching for him, hand grabbing a handful of Sam’s jacket, tugging the younger Winchester over to him. Dean returned his attention to Amber then and shook his head a regretful smile on his face, a sigh escaping him. 

“Mm, that’s…” he started, brows lifted, he shook his head regretfully, “that’s really tempting, but,” he jerked his head to the side at Sam, “Sam has to go too and he’s afraid of using the bathroom in public,” he explained before pressing his lips together and nodding, “I have to turn the water on for him or else… y’know….” he said with a shrug. 

Amber’s gaze moved from flirting up at Dean to looking over at Sam, frowning in distaste as she looked him up and down her eyes finally meeting his and offering a fake smile. 

“I see,” she muttered. 

Sam smiled a small fake tight lipped polite uncomfortable smile as Amber looked up at him and shrugged a shoulder. 

“Okay, well, let’s go, Sam,” Dean said, his gaze darting between his brother and Amber before yanking on Sam’s jacket, pulling him along as he stepped around Amber and continued out of the lobby and into the hall. 

Sam lifted a hand once they were out of eye and ear shot of the others, swatting Dean’s hand off of him as he glared darkly over at his brother, slightly slanted eyes tight.

“What the hell did you have to do that for?” Sam spat.

Dean grinned as he looked over at his brother, “Do what?”

Sam scoffed angrily, “You made me the laughing stock of the party!”

Dean scoffed, “I did not,” he mumbled, his attention moving away from Sam to where they were going. 

“Besides, what did you want me to do, let Amber come with me and actually have to go into the bathroom with her?” Dean asked with a shrug. 

“I got us away from the geek patrol and I made sure that Amber Bubbles wasn’t gonna wind up holdin’ my dick in the bathroom,” he explained, a proud grin spreading across his face, “I think I did damn pretty good.” 

Sam scowled as he walked along beside his brother, “Amber who?” He asked, eyes sliding to the side angrily to look over at his brother. 

Dean glanced at Sam, “Bubbles,” he answered with a shrug, returning his eyes forward. “It’s a stripper I saw once,” he waved a dismissive hand; “It was a long time ago.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

Dean and Sam began to search more of the main floor of the Inn, flashlights out, the EMF detector held in the palm of Dean’s hand as they walked. Other than cobwebs, spiders, a few rats and more cockroaches than a person ever wanted to see in their life there didn’t seem to be anything in the old place and definitely nothing supernatural. They soon located one of the staircases, this one leading upward to the other areas of the Inn. They slowly climbed it, hunter’s instincts on full alert as they made their way down corridors and passageways filled with long halls and rooms dotting along each side. They’d finally decided to split up to cover more ground since they’d already been searching for hours now, only to come up empty handed and it didn’t seem as though they were even close to being done with the maze of passages that wound through the old place, not to mention the different rooms that seemed to line each new hall and floor. 

Turning the door knob of one of the rooms, this one located at the end of a long hall on the second floor, Dean cautiously stepped into the room, his eyes surveying the area for dangers as he entered what seemed to be a sewing room of some sort, the lay out was wide and impressive obviously built for a number of people to be inside at once. 

Dean huffed softly as his gaze moved over the spider web coated furnishings and gadgets that lined the room. 

“Sweat shop much?” He mumbled disgustedly under his breath, brows lifting as he looked upward, shining his flashlight around the room and across the ceiling before slowly lowering the beam to shine out before him as he continued to search the room for anything out of the ordinary, EMF meter still held in one hand. 

Walking further into the room, his gaze fell on spools of material and different kinds ribbon still tucked away into the cubbies of one wall, brow furrowing, head tilting marginally to one side with curiosity. 

Glancing down at the EMF meter in his hand, which hadn’t made a sound the entire time he and Sam had been searching the Inn and still seemed to be silent as the grave, he frowned in annoyance before slipping the meter into his jacket pocket. Reaching out with that same hand, he pulled one of the spools out of the cubby in which it had been sitting, his gaze raking over the thick maroon velvet ribbon. He quirked a brow before puckering his lips, blowing the dust from the spool of ribbon, coughing softly afterward, making a disgruntled face at the offending ribbon before a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as an idea struck him. Reaching for the side of his jacket with the hand in which he held his flashlight he pulled open the side of his coat, tucking the spool of ribbon inside his jacket. Releasing the material of his coat, his lips quirked upward into a lascivious smirk, snickering to himself and nodding appreciatively at his own lewd thoughts as he turned and walked away from the cubbies, heading back toward the door. 

Dean walked back down the corridor that lead to the rooms Abram had given to everyone, his flashlight having been tucked away. He was back in the well lit areas of the Inn, hands loosely fisted at his sides as he walked, his attention swinging from one side of the hall to the other as well as before him, continuing to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. 

Sam walked around the opposite corner in front of him, heading down the hallway toward him. 

“Dean,” Sam called as he spotted his brother, quickening his pace toward him. “Did you find anything?” 

Dean paused in his steps, waiting for Sam to reach him and shook his head, jaw clenched, face set in determined lines, his eye darting to survey the area around them before returning to Sam once more, “Nah,” he muttered, “I got nothin’,” he answered with an irritated huff, lifting a hand to wipe downward over his face. 

“You?” he asked, already knowing the answer but needing to be sure, his hand dropping to his side. 

Sam gave his head a shake, lips tightly pressed together, “No, not a thing,” he confirmed. “Ya know, maybe this is just an old Inn,” he offered with a shrug, “it is possible.”

Dean scoffed and quirked a brow, “How many times in Dad’s varied dealings with this kind of shit has it ever been ‘just an old Inn’?” 

Sam sighed heavily, “Never?”

Dean huffed and nodded before turning around and storming back down the hall, heading back the way he’d come. 

Sam sighed softly and pressed his lips together in a thin line, frowning at his brother’s back before following after and catching up to him, his stride mirroring Dean’s. 

“Okay, so… we haven’t turned up anything yet, it doesn’t mean we’re wrong, doesn’t make us right either…” Sam said causing Dean to look over at him, huffing out a soft breath as he raised his brows and tilting his head in disgruntled agreement. 

“Look… we’ve got a room already and we’ve got nowhere to be really since there’s been no sign of Dad and not much in the way of cases lately, so why not stay here? If something decides to make itself known when we’re not lookin’ we’ll be here… s’better than drivin’ off and leavin’ these guys alone to fend for themselves,” Sam reasoned. 

Dean’s jaw clenched as he nodded, “Yeah,” he sighed wearily, “fine,” he agreed, “okay.” 

They continued down the hall and into the lobby which was now empty except for a waste basket over filled with red plastic cups, empty and half empty wooden bowls sitting along the coffee table amidst empty plastic cups that hadn’t been thrown away. 

Dean frowned in slight shock, brows lifting as he looked around the room, Sam’s features mirroring his own. 

“Huh…” Sam muttered.

Dean tilted his head to the side as he gave a small nod, eyes widen thoughtfully. 

“Not much of the party bunch, eh?” Dean mumbled. 

Sam lifted his arm, looking down at his watch and pressed his lips together in a tight line, his brows raised, “Uh, actually it’s after one in the morning.”

Dean gave a nod, “Like I said,” he said, “at one A.M. things just start gettin good.”

Sam huffed softly and rolled his eyes as he lowered his arm. 

“Hey guys, “Abram called out from the other side of the room, “where ya been?”

Dean and Sam looked at one another thoughtfully before looking back at Abram, “Took a nap,” Sam said at the same time that Dean said, “Sam couldn’t pee,” causing Sam to turn his head and glare at his brother. 

Dean snickered, returning his attention to Abram, “What we mean is, Sam couldn’t pee and then when he did, we went and took naps,” he explained with a forced smile, just barely able to hold back rolling his eyes at the ridiculousness of what he was saying. 

Abram’s eyes darted between the two Winchesters in confusion before he nodded, “Ah, okay,” he muttered, still befuddled but trying to shrug it away. “Well, uh, everyone else went to bed,” he explained, “I was actually just heading there myself.” 

Dean and Sam both raised their brows as they gave a nod in unison, before Dean frowned and glanced back down the hall from where they’d come, returning his attention to Abram, “I think we will too,” he said, faking a yawn as he nodded.

“Oh yeah, tired,” Dean agreed. 

Abram frowned, “Didn’t you just take a nap?”

Dean’s eyes widened marginally, “Huh? Who,” he asked, “oh me?” He asked turning his head, looking at Sam a moment before looking back at Abram. 

“Actually, Sam napped,” he explained, “I just sat in there with him… he’s afraid to sleep in strange places too,” he explained. 

Abram looked from Dean over to Sam, “Whoa…”

Sam nodded, lips pressed together, the corners lifted in a polite tight faked smile. 

Dean grinned as he looked over at his brother before returning his attention to Abram, pressing his lips together and bowing his head as he fought to stifle his laughter. Drawing in a deep breath Dean lifted his head, his attention returning to Abram as he blew out a breath. 

“Well, we’re gonna just go now,” Dean muttered, jerking his head to the side toward the hall before he looked over at Sam. 

Sam’s eyes tightened as he looked at his brother, jaw clenching with his irritation before he turned and walked back down the hall. 

Dean glanced over at Abram, giving him a small nod before following Sam, the snicker he’d been holding back bubbling out as they drew further away from the lobby and he caught up to his brother, his stride matching Sam’s. 

“That was pretty funny,” Dean muttered, grinning at his brother.

Sam huffed and glared at Dean, “Only to you.” 

Dean huffed out a small chuckle and turned his attention away from Sam and his angry moping expression. 

Let him pout, he’d make it up to Sam in just a few minutes, once they got into their room. He was confident that by the time he was done his brother won’t even remember what he was supposed to be sour-faced about.

Those thoughts had a smug smirk pulling at the corner of Dean’s lips as they reached their room, pausing in his steps long enough for Sam to turn the door knob and push it open, walking into the room afterward. 

After following Sam inside, he closed the door behind himself, tearing his gaze from his brother’s back he turned and locked the door. Returning his attention to Sam, he watched his brother walk over to the bed opposite the one they’d been in previously and take a seat on the edge. 

A huff passed Dean’s lips as he frowned at Sam’s overreacting; it wasn’t like he’d done anything that bad, it definitely wasn’t anything deserving of Sam not getting into _his_ bed with him. Who gave a fuck what these idiots thought? 

He quirked a brow as he walked over to the bed closest to the door that they’d shared before, shrugging off his jacket along the way. He tossed his coat over into a nearby chair, his gaze still on his brother, watching as Sam leaned over and removed his boots. 

“What do you care what they think?” Dean asked, reaching up, grabbing each side of his over shirt, shrugging it of his shoulder, pulling his arms free and tossing it into the chair with his jacket. 

Sam sat back, toeing off his now unfastened boots, a sigh escaping his lips as he looked over at his brother. 

“Could ask you the same thing,” he mentioned, “then I wouldn’t have to look like such a freak to everyone with these lies you keep coming up with.” 

Dean paused in undressing and frowned, giving a small shrug of one shoulder, conceding the point before the corner of his lips quirked upward into a smirk, “Eh, gotta admit it’s kinda funny though…”

Sam’s eyes widened marginally as he looked at is brother as though Dean were crazy. 

“Funny?” he asked, voice raised slightly. “How is making me look like some kind of freak to everyone _funny_?”

Dean frowned, scoffing softly, “Aw, c’mon, Sam,” he shook his head, toeing off his boots. He finished removing his boots before continuing to speak, “it’s not that bad.” 

Sam’s slightly slanted eyes tightened as he scowled at his brother, “Neither is admitting that you’re with me,” he countered. “Or is it?” He challenged, “Are you that ashamed of us?” 

Dean huffed, jaw muscle twitching in his jaw as he clenched it, eyes narrowing at his brother before a single brow quirked upward. 

“What’da you think, Sam?” Dean spat, frowning angrily at his brother. 

“I dunno, Dean, why don’t you tell me,” Sam suggested. 

Dean slowly shook his head in disbelief, “No, Sam, I’m not, alright?” He snarled, “What the hell do you want me to do, go wake everybody up and let them know that I’m fuckin’ in love with my brother?”

Sam continued to gaze angrily at his brother for a long moment, hazel eyes locked with green before he slowly pulled his gaze away with a huff, lowering it as he shook his head. 

“No,” he answered softly before returning his attention to Dean’s face, “it just wouldn’t hurt you to tell me that every once in a while,” he muttered. 

Dean released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and eyed his brother a moment before giving a small nod.

“Okay, alright,” he acknowledged, “m’sorry.” 

Sam nodded, lips pressed in a thin line, “Yeah,” he murmured, “I know,” he allowed, slowly tearing his gaze from his brother’s as he reached for the buttons of his over shirt and began to unfasten them. 

Dean’s gaze lingered on his brother a moment before he tore it away, reaching for the hem of his tee, arms crossing as he grasped the soft cotton, pulling the shirt up and over his head, letting it fall onto the floor at his feet. 

He looked back over at his brother just in time to watch Sam shrug out of his over shirt, the flannel pooling behind him on the bed. 

“You, uh,” Dean started, giving a small shrug as Sam looked over at him. “You wanna come over here… with me?” He asked, glancing down at the bed he stood next to before returning his attention to his brother’s face. 

Sam’s lips curved upward into a small affectionate smile, his eyes locked with Dean’s as he pulled up from the bed, standing to his feet. He crossed the distance separating him from his side of the bed they’d shared earlier before his eyes slowly moved downward pausing at his brother’s lips, his tongue darting out to lick his own subconsciously. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he allowed his gaze to continue to travel lower over his brother’s toned muscular chest and down to the waistband of Dean’s jeans before his eyes rose once more, meeting his brother’s eyes. 

“I came,” Sam murmured huskily. 

Dean ‘heh’-ed out a soft chuckle, brow quirking as he slowly shook his head, his eyes locked with Sam’s, “Not yet, “ he muttered softly, voice deep and rough, “but you will…” 

 

Sam swallowed hard as he gazed into his brother’s eyes, watching the black of Dean’s pupils grow wide with lust as his brother’s gaze roamed over his body. Dean’s gaze seemed to sweep over his body like a light caress, leaving tingling sensations in its wake along Sam’s skin. 

Dean’s eyes rose to Sam’s, teeth scraping across his full bottom lip as he gazed into his brother’s eyes and slowly shook his head. 

“You’re so hot, Sammy,” he whispered thickly. 

Sam’s lips curved into a shy grin, warmth flooding his face before his tongue darted out to lick his lips almost nervously. 

“So are you,” he rasped softly before tearing his gaze away from his brother’s, head bowing as he reached for the hem of his tee, pulling it up and over his head. Turning at the waist, he tossed the shirt onto the bed behind him before turning back and reaching for the fastenings of his jeans. 

“No wait,” Dean blurted, gaining Sam’s attention, causing him to pause and look up at his brother in slight confusion. 

Dean shook his head before starting around the bed, “Don’t,” he muttered, crossing the distance between himself and his brother, his hands reaching for Sam’s, gently pulling them away from the fly of his brother’s jeans. “Let me,” he offered softly, his eyes intent on Sam’s. 

Sam’s throat convulsed as he swallowed, nodding afterward his hands lowering to his sides, allowing Dean to do as he wished. 

Dean’s lips quirked softly at the corners before he tore his gaze from Sam’s, looking down at the button of his brother’s jeans. He stepped to the side around Sam, lowering himself down, sitting on the edge of the bed, nimble digits worked unfastening the button and sliding down the zipper of Sam’s jeans. 

His gaze flickered up toward his brother’s face, their eyes meeting briefly as Sam watched him unfasten the denims closures before Dean lowered his gaze once more, hands sliding along the waistband, thumbs tucking underneath the denim, pulling his brother’s jeans down off his hips and down along his thighs. 

Sam’s hands rose to grip his brother’s shoulders as he stepped out of his jeans, releasing one shoulder at a time as he lifted each leg in turn; peeling off his socks, letting them drop onto the floor at his feet to lie near his discarded jeans. 

Dean’s gaze rose, gazing up at Sam’s face while he waited for his brother to finish, tongue darting out to lick slowly across his lips before his gaze lowered once more and he leaned in, hands lifting to grip Sam’s hips, tongue darting out, licking at the indention of his brother’s belly button and swirling against the tender flesh around it. 

A soundless breathy moan tumbled from Sam’s softly parted lips, cock twitching in his boxers. He lifted one hand from his brother’s shoulder, fingers threading into the short soft spikes of Dean’s hair which he curled into a fist. Tugging Dean’s head gently but firmly back away from his stomach, keeping his brother from doing anything more while he still had enough of his wits about him to do so. His eyes met and locked with his brother’s as Dean looked up at him, the emerald hue of his brother’s eyes now almost completely swallowed up now by the black of his lust blown pupils, only a thin ring of grass green remaining. 

“God, Dean…” Sam breathed, swallowing afterward, giving a nod his eyes flickering down to his brother’s jeans before returning to Dean’s eyes. “Take ’em off,” he instructed, “wanna see you, touch you.” 

Dean’s lips, which were softly parted pressed together momentarily as he looked down at himself before parting once more as he returned his gaze to Sam’s face, tongue darting out to lick across his lips as he gave a small nod, releasing Sam’s hips. Lowering his hands to the fastenings of his jeans, Dean deftly unbuttoned the denim before lowering the metal zipper with near teasing slowness, his eyes darting back up to Sam’s face as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Sam licked his lips, nodding his approval, “Now take ’em off,” he demanded softly, voice husky with want. 

Dean’s lips quirked upward slightly at the corners, his bottom lip slipping free of his teeth as a ‘heh’-ed chuckle of breath left him before he gave a small nod, his gaze dropping to Sam’s middle, waiting for him to step back so he could stand to his feet. 

Sam took a step back as his brother’s gaze lowered, giving him room enough to stand, his eyes tracking his brother as he pulled to his feet, standing before him. He watched as Dean reached for the waistband of his jeans, pushing them down off his hips.

He reached out, his large hands covering Dean’s once his brother’s jeans were past his hips, his eyes meeting Dean’s as his brother looked up at him. 

“Let me,” Sam murmured thickly. 

Dean swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he gazed into his brother’s eyes and gave a small nod, releasing the denim and slowly moving his hands out from under Sam’s allowing his brother to take over removing his jeans. 

Sam lowered his gaze to the denim in his hands, sliding it down his brother’s thighs, his own legs bending at the knee. Kneeling on the floor before Dean, Sam continued to push his brother’s jeans lower, pausing only when the denim was pooled at Dean’s ankles, his face tilting upward, looking up at his brother waiting for Dean to step free of the denim. 

Dean lifted one foot and then the other, stepping out of his jeans as his brother pulled the denim out of the way. 

As Dean started to lean to one side, one foot lifting off the floor, leg bent at the knee and reaching for his sock, Sam stopped him catching Dean’s hand with his own. 

“I got it,” Sam whispered huskily.

Slowly Dean lowered his foot, straightening his body, tongue darting out to lick his lips anxiously, feeling awkward; not used to having someone do things like this _for_ him. 

Sam’s index finger slid under the cotton of one of his brother’s socks, pulling it downward, waiting for his brother to lift his foot as he reached his ankle. 

Dean’s eyes darted downward, feeling Sam pause, his brother’s finger still tucked under his sock. Lifting a hand, Dean pressed it palm flat against the nearby wall and lifted his foot for Sam to pull the sock free, tossing it to the side alongside his brother’s. Placing his foot back down on the floor as soon as the sock was removed, he watched as Sam repeated the process with his opposite foot, once again tossing his sock to the side.

Dean’s throat convulsed as he swallowed, his eyes on his brother, “Heh, well, thank God that’s over, huh?” He joked, brows lifting, his lips curling upward slightly at the corners as his hand slipped down off the wall, arm hanging once more at his side. 

Sam tilted his head upward, a small smile curving his lips as he looked up at his brother, their eyes meeting briefly before he lowered his gaze to Dean’s cotton clad cock, hands lifting, reaching for his brother‘s hips. He gripped him gently but firmly as he leaned in, lips parting, head slanting slightly, mouthing Dean’s balls through his brother’s boxers. 

Dean gasped in a soft breath, a moan tearing from his throat afterward. 

“God, Sammy…” Dean breathed thickly, one hand lifting to Sam’s hair, fingers tangling in the soft longish strands before his eyes slid closed, teeth scraping slowly across his bottom lip. 

Sucking one of his brother’s balls into his mouth through the cotton fabric, Sam’s hot breath seeped through the material along with the tepid wetness of his saliva warming the sensitive flesh beneath, eliciting a deep groan that tore from Dean’s throat. 

Dean’s fingers curled into a tight fist in his brother’s hair as his head lolled back, breaths panting softly through parted lips, his hard cock twitching beneath the soft cotton of his boxers. 

“Fuck, Sammy…” Dean groaned, hissing in a breath through his teeth. 

He tugged at Sam’s hair as he lifted his head, passion glazed eyes blinking open, gazing down at his brother as he gently pulled Sam’s head back. 

As Dean pulled gently at his hair, forcing him to lift his head, Sam let his brother’s ball that he’d been teasing fall from between his lips, his tongue darting out to lick across them as he gazed up at his brother through heavy lidded desire filled eyes. 

“Want you,” Dean murmured huskily. 

“Yeah,” Sam breathed softly, giving a nod, “want you too,” he agreed. 

Dean eased down, sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes remaining locked with his brother’s, his hand that had been fisted in Sam’s hair releasing its hold and slipping free of the silken strands, sliding down the side of his brother’s face, fingertips brushing softly against the skin of Sam’s cheek. 

Sam turned his head slightly, his gaze remaining locked with his brother’s as his lips pressed against the inside of Dean’s wrist in a soft kiss before his tongue darted out, tip swirling against the delicate flesh briefly before pulling back. 

Dean hissed in a sharp breath as Sam’s tongue teased at the tender skin, his eyes darting over to watch the tip of his brother’s tongue move in small circles against the inside of his wrist briefly before looking back, his gaze once more locking with Sam’s as his brother pulled his tongue back, turning his head toward him once more. 

Dean’s tongue darted out, licking across his lips, the corner of them quirking upward into a small smirk as his hand fell away from the side of Sam’s face, reaching for his brother instead, hands against his brother’s sides, pulling at him as he scooted back across the bed, making room for his brother to join him. 

He released Sam as his brother began to climb into the bed next to him, moving back, laying against the pillows. He stretched out one arm reaching for Sam as his brother crawled the short distance across the mattress over to him, pulling Sam down against him, his arms wrapping around his brother. 

Sam eased his body down onto his brother’s as Dean reached for him, pulling him in, arms wrapping tightly around him, hands sliding up and down the naked skin of his back. 

He dipped his head, lips crushing against his brother’s which parted beneath his own; their tongues moved, the tips teasing against each another’s, flicking at the interior of one another’s mouths, running along the roofs. Lips captured lips, suckling at the tender flesh, ragged moans tearing from their throats. 

Dean’s hands slid up Sam’s back, fingers threading and tangling in the back of his brother’s hair, curling into fists within the silken strands. He tugged gently, directing Sam’s head the way he wanted it, forcing his brother’s head to turn or pull back as he suckled at Sam’s lips, top and bottom, tongue tickling teasingly at the corners of his brother’s mouth. 

Sam shifted his weight off one of his forearms that were leaning against the bed at each side of his brother‘s head, his hand sliding his down along the side of Dean’s body, fingertips clawing at his brother’s flesh wantonly as soft mewls tore from his throat while Dean ravaged his mouth. His hips undulated against Dean’s sensuously as wanton groans and whimpers sounded from his throat, each sound muffled against the onslaught of his brother’s kisses. The fingers of his hand that remained near Dean’s head reached for and tangled in the short soft spikes of his brother’s hair before curling into a fist causing many of the strands to slip through his fingers. 

Releasing his grip on his brother’s hair, Dean slid his hands down Sam’s back once more, slipping them under the cotton of Sam’s boxers, cupping the cheeks of his ass in both hands and squeezing, pressing his brother down against him as he bucked his hips upward causing their hard cocks to glide against each other through the material of their boxers, eliciting deep groans from both their throats. 

Sam tore his mouth away from Dean’s, his passion glazed eyes opening to mere desire heavy slits, gazing down at his brother. He searched his brother’s face, taking in the way Dean’s softly parted lips were kiss swollen and reddened, the flush to his face that caused his freckles to be more pronounced and moaned desirously. 

“Now,” Sam murmured thickly, “want you inside me now.” 

A guttural groan tore from Dean’s throat at the raw need he saw in his brother’s face and heard in his words, his teeth caught hold of his own bottom lip, biting into the tender flesh that still tingled from their kisses. His hands released Sam’s ass and slid back out of his brother’s boxers, arms wrapping tightly around Sam before he rolled them, pressing Sam back against the mattress, his body blanketing his brother’s. 

He braced his weight on one forearm slightly to the side and above his brother’s head, wrist bent, fingers toying with strands of his brother’s hair. His opposite hand slid down Sam’s shoulder and over the top of his brother’s chest, thumb catching and swirling over a nipple before he moved his hand over further, thumb and forefinger gently pinching the sensitive nub, rolling it between the pads of his fingers. 

Dean’s gaze lowered, roaming over his brother’s neck, watching how each turn of Sam’s head drew out his windpipe or jugular, the way the tendons strained as his brother’s head tilted back, pressing into the pillow. He watched Sam’s throat as his brother drew in a soft shuddery breath, then the way it convulsed as Sam swallowed a groan when he combined thrusting his hard cock against his brother’s with the way he was rolling and plucking at Sam’s hardened nipple. 

“Dean, please…” Sam begged hoarsely, his back arching into his brother’s touch, fingertips digging into the bare skin of Dean’s back as he clung to him. 

The corner of Dean’s parted lips twitched upward before he dipped his head, pressing his lips to the tender flesh under his brother’s ear, teeth scraping lightly against the delicate flesh before sucking at the skin lightly at first then hard enough to leave a mark behind, tongue flicking against the sensitized flesh as he suckled. 

Sam’s jaw worked, mouth opening wide on soundless gasps and relaxing time and again before he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, nostrils flaring, his neck arching further back, offering more of his throat to his brother, a pleasured groan tumbling from his lips. His eyes squeezed tightly closed, body straining upward against Dean’s as he writhed, hips rolling wantonly under his brother. 

Dean released the suction he had on his brother’s skin, tongue soothing over the abused flesh before drawing back, hot breath fanning against his brother’s skin as he trailed open mouthed kisses mixed with scrapes of his teeth along his brother’s flesh. He worked his way upward along the long column of Sam’s throat to his jaw line, making his way to his brother’s lips and slanting his own over them, tongue licking his way into Sam’s mouth, the tip of flicking against the roof of his brother’s mouth before tangling with his brother’s. 

He thrust his throbbing cock harder against his brother’s as he kissed him roughly, his tongue plundering Sam’s mouth. His fingers released Sam’s nipple, hand sliding upward, cupping his brother’s cheek, digits threading back into Sam’s soft longish hair.

Sam’s hands slid up his brother’s back, fingers tangling in the short spikes of his brother’s hair, fingers curling into tight fists, mimicking Dean’s earlier actions, tugging gently at the closed cropped strands as he turned his head, tearing his lips away from his brother’s. His breaths panted out hard from between parted kiss swollen lips as he gazed up at his brother through unfocused, passion glazed eyes, pupils lust blown, nearly eating up the hazel hue completely, leaving only a thin ring of color. 

Dean gazed down at his brother, breaths panting out from between his full kiss swollen lips. Sam’s hands remained tightly fisted in his hair, forcing him to hold his head back instead of reclaiming his brother’s lips. The thumb of his hand cupping his brother’s face brushed softly over Sam’s cheekbone as he searched his brother’s face hungrily. 

“Y’so hot, Sammy…” he murmured thickly. 

“Love you, Dean…” Sam murmured, his body straining against Dean’s, “please… need you…” 

Tongue darting out to lick across his lips, Dean gave a nod, “Yeah, I - I love you too, baby,” he rasped softly before dipping his head despite Sam holding onto his hair, a soft grunt leaving him as his brother’s hold pulled at the short strands. His lips pressing against Sam’s, kissing him tenderly, tongue tangling briefly with his brother’s before he pulled his head back, breaking the kiss. He hissed in a breath through his teeth, his eyes roaming over his brother’s face as he nodded.

“Jus’ - jus’ gimme a second,” Dean muttered as he pulled off his brother, causing Sam’s hands to release his brother and fall away, landing against the mattress at his sides. Dean climbed off the bed, standing to his feet. He walked over to his duffel, unzipping it, hand dipping inside, searching through the contents. 

Sam watched his brother go, brow furrowing in question for a moment before he realized what Dean was doing, what he was looking for. He quickly reached for the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down his hips, body arching as he removed them, tossing his boxers onto the floor at the side of the bed. 

Finding the bottle of lube he’d been searching for, Dean stepped away and crossed the distance between himself and the chair sitting beside the bed. He tossed his clothes aside, reaching for his jacket, searching the inside pockets. He pulled out the large spool of ribbon that he’d smuggled out of the sewing room earlier before turning around, his breath hitching in his throat as his gaze moved over his brother’s naked form, his gaze catching on the pearl of precome that sat at the tip of his brother’s dick. 

Looking up at his brother, Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes darting between his brother’s face and the spool of ribbon as Dean stepped up to the bedside and paused.

“Wha -” Sam started only to have his words stolen away in a sharply gasped breath as his brother leaned over, taking his throbbing hard cock deep into his mouth. 

Sam’s brows knitted; face contorting in a look of near pain, “Oh God…” Sam groaned desirously, his dick pulsing in his brother’s mouth, one hand lifting, digits threading into his brother’s hair as Dean suckled at his cock, mouth sliding up and down his length. 

Pulling his head back, causing his brother’s hand to fall away from his hair, Dean let Sam’s dick spring free of his lips, a gossamer thin strand of mixed spittle and precome stretched out like a spider’s webbing clinging to the head and Dean’s bottom lip before his brother lifted one of his hands that he’d braced against the mattress, wiping at his mouth. His lips quirked upward slightly at the corners as his gaze met Sam’s before climbing back onto the bed, throwing a leg over his brother, straddling his hips. 

Sam’s eyes followed his brother, brow furrowing again at the spool of ribbon as Dean picked it back up from where it lay on the mattress next to the bottle of lube.

“What’s that?” Sam asked hoarsely. 

Dean smirked at his brother and quirked a brow, “Uh, ribbon,” he answered with a soft chuckle, “I found it earlier,” he explained, nimble digits unfastening the start of the ribbon from where it had been hooked, pulling a small length of it out for Sam to see. 

“Ya trust me, Sammy?” Dean asked huskily, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he gazed down at his brother. 

“Of course I do,” Sam answered without hesitation, his voice a soft whisper of breath. He swallowed hard, tongue darting out to lick his lips, brow knitted in befuddlement as he shook his head. “But, I don’t understand, what’s the ribbon for?”

The corner of Dean’s lips quirked upward into a small lewd smirk, “M’gonna tie it around you, wrap you up,” he explained, giving a breathy chuckle, “kinda like a Christmas present. A really kinky and hot Christmas present.” 

“You wanna… tie me up?” Sam asked, brow furrowing deeper in confusion and doubt. He shook his head, glancing at the door before looking back at his brother worriedly. Why did his brother want to tie him up? It didn’t make any sense, not to mention it wasn’t exactly the best time even if he was gonna allow it, they were in the middle of a possible case. 

Dean huffed softly, “Come on, Sam, don’t be a spoil sport. It’ll be fun,” he insisted.

“Um, what about the case? What if something happens and I’m tied up and --”

“Shhh,” Dean cut his brother off, “it’ll be okay, I’ll take care’a you. It’ll be fine.”

Sam caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at it as he gazed up at his brother and the spool of ribbon Dean held in his hand. 

Dean sighed, certain that his little brother wasn’t going to go for his kinky idea, head bowing slightly as he nodded in reluctant acceptance. If Sam didn’t want to do it, he didn’t want to do it; though he couldn’t hide his disappointment even if he wanted to. 

Sam sighed heavily, “Fine,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he lifted his hand off the mattress, pressing his wrists together for Dean to secure together. 

Dean’s lips quirked upward, a wide smile spreading across his face, making the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle, brows rising, an almost gleeful chuckle working out of him. 

“Really?” he asked unable to believe Sam was serious. “I can?”

Sam nodded and couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips at his brother’s nearly giddy excitement. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Dean like this, if his brother had been about something before, it’d been a damn long time. Whichever the case it made him glad that he’d said yes for that reason alone. The wide smile on his brother’s face that made his eyes twinkle was worth it no matter how slightly uncomfortable he was with the idea. After all, it wasn’t like Dean would let anything happen to him; that he knew without a doubt. 

“Yeah, you can,” Sam assured, waving his pressed together wrists at his brother, “so come on…” 

Dean pressed his lips together as he looked down at his brother’s wrists and shook his head, “Nah, not like that,” he said, lifting his ass up off Sam’s hips and walking backward on his knees down Sam’s body, straddling his thighs. 

“Put your arms at your sides,” Dean instructed, waving Sam toward him, “and sit up for me.” 

Sam dropped his hands to the bed on each side of his body and pushed himself up into a sitting position, his brows lifting with uncertainty as he looked from his brother’s face to the ribbon and back, “My sides?” He asked hesitantly. 

Dean nodded, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, “Trust me,” he encouraged softly, lowering his gaze to the spool as he sat it down on the mattress, pulling at the ribbon until finally the entire length of it unwound. Batting the empty spool off the bed onto the floor, Dean lifted his gaze, his attention returning to his brother, tongue darting out to lick slowly across his lips. 

He rose up on his knees, causing Sam to have to tilt his face up to look at him, his own eyes lowered, head bowed as he gazed his brother. He slid the velvety ribbon through his hands until he grasped both ends, the length of it pooling in Sam’s lap. Tossing the ends down onto the mattress at each side of his brother’s body, Dean reached down into Sam’s lap, his eyes slowly dropping away from Sam’s as he searched for the center of ribbon. His hands slid along the soft fibers before he lifted both his gaze and the ribbon, drawing it up over his brother’s head, his eyes locking on Sam’s, hands sliding along the soft length of velvet, pulling it taut across his brother’s upper back. 

Sam watched each movement Dean made attentively, shivering as the pooled ribbon in his lap shifted from his brother’s fingers toying with the length of it; causing the soft velvet to tickle against his sensitive cock and balls. He gasped in a soft breath of air as Dean pulled the ribbon tight against his back, using it to pull him in closer to his brother. His lips parted, eyes slipping closed as Dean’s mouth descended on his, his brother’s full lips slanting over his own before Dean’s tongue darted into his mouth through his softly parted lips, mapping out the interior and eliciting a ragged moan from deep in his throat. 

Dean unabashedly ravaged his brother’s mouth, his head sliding from side to side; tongue tangling with Sam’s own, their teeth knocking together and scraping against the tender flesh of their lips, grunted moans spilling from their lips to be swallowed up in the kiss. 

Sam’s hands slowly lifted from hanging at his sides to reach for his brother, holding onto Dean’s wait, his thumbs smoothing back and forth against his brother’s smooth, warm, lightly sun-kissed skin as they nipped gently at one another’s lips.

Dean captured his brother’s bottom lip between his own, suckling at it a moment before releasing as he ended the kiss, pulling his head back just slightly, their breaths panting out through parted lips, mixing and mingling together as they gazed into one another’s passion glazed eyes. 

His hands slid further along the ribbon as he brought each side around Sam’s shoulders and pulled further back, crisscrossing each end over his chest before pulling them back around his brother’s body and repeating the motions three more times, slowly working his way lower on Sam’s chest and biceps with each wrap. His gaze darted between what he was doing, watching the ribbon so that it didn’t become tangled along with the motions of his hands, always flickering up to Sam’s face as his brother sat watching him intently. 

“S’gonna be so hot, baby,” Dean murmured huskily, drawing Sam’s attention away from his brother’s hands, to his face, their eyes meeting. 

Sam’s throat convulsed as he swallowed before his lips parted, drawing in a ragged breath of air, tongue darting out afterward to lick across them. His gaze darted downward to Dean’s lips catching movement out of the corner of his eye as the corner of his brother’s lips quirked upward slightly before Dean dipped his head, pressing his lips to Sam’s, kissing him softly. 

Dean’s lips parted against Sam’s, tongue darting out to flick against his brother’s top lip, catching it with his own and suckling softly for a brief moment before releasing. Their breaths panted softly into one another’s mouths as they shared one another’s inhales and exhales for a moment before Dean pulled his head back and lowered his gaze, returning his attention to what he was doing. 

Dean twisted the ribbon along the center of Sam’s chest, the material’s tight wrappings looking almost braided. He then wrapped the ribbon back around Sam’s body, crossing it in the back and bringing it forward again, crossing it there. He continued the motions a few more times, working his way down Sam’s torso and along his forearms, working his way lower, crisscrossing it tightly over his brother’s stomach and wrists. 

Head bowed, Sam’s eyes tracked his brother’s motions, his muscles rippling, flexing against the velvet length of ribbon, testing its hold before he lifted his head, his gaze on his brother’s face, which was a mask of concentration. He hoped like hell that Dean couldn’t hear the way his heart pounded anxiously in his chest; that he didn’t notice the way his hands were slowly clenching and unclenching at his sides with unease. 

“How low can ya go?” Sam rasped, a nervous breathy chuckle working out of him. 

Dean’s eyes flickered up to his brother’s face, head shaking slowly before he lowered his gaze once more to his hands, “You have no idea,” he muttered thickly. 

He jutted his chin toward the pillows behind Sam, “Lay back,” he directed as he held onto each end of the ribbon. 

Sam’s brow furrowed, his throat convulsing as he swallowed thickly before turning his head, looking back over his shoulder at the pillows. Returning his attention to his brother, Sam licked his lips tentatively, lips parting softly afterward, his breaths puffing out softly. 

“Uh, Dean, I -” Sam stammered hoarsely. 

Dean’s eyes darted up to Sam’s face, one brow quirking in puzzlement. His gaze roamed over his brother, belatedly understanding what was wrong or at least he thought he did. It wasn’t going to be easy for Sam to just lie back unless he let himself fall back onto the mattress. 

“Oh,” Dean gave a small nod, “lemme help,” he muttered softly before releasing the ends of the ribbon and pulling off his brother, walking on his knees along the bed, moving to Sam’s side. 

Sam sighed out a breath, it wasn’t exactly what he’d been about to say, he could have laid back on his own albeit his brother’s help would make it easier. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself not to voice his misgivings and only gave a nod, waiting as Dean wrapped an arm around his front, his brother’s hand pressed palm flat against the side of his back, the other braced against his upper back and nape.

“M’kay, lay back,” Dean instructed, “I gotcha.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

Sam turned his head toward his brother, their eyes meeting briefly before he lowered his gaze to the mattress as he let his body relax back into his brother’s hands, allowing Dean to ease him down onto the bed. 

Pulling his arms out from under his brother, Dean leaned over Sam and pressed his lips briefly to his brother’s in a gentle kiss, gently sucking Sam’s bottom lip into his mouth before pulling his head back, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 

“So hot, baby,” Dean murmured huskily. 

Sam gazed up into his Dean’s face, the corners of his lips twitching softly, returning his brother’s smile.

“Love you,” Sam whispered. 

Dean nodded briefly, “Yeah, love you too, baby,” he murmured thickly one hand reaching out to cup Sam’s cheek, thumb smoothing over his brother’s high cheekbone briefly before he pulled his hand away. He moved back down Sam’s body, crawling across the mattress and in between his brother’s legs, sitting back on his heels as he reached for the ends of the ribbon. 

Sam watched his brother crawl away from him, his eyes sliding over the play of muscles in Dean’s body as he moved and found himself biting back a low moan, bottom lip caught and held firmly between his teeth. He tracked his brother, gazing down the length of his body at him as Dean sat back on his knees between his legs which he slid further apart to accommodate his brother’s presence. His gaze fell to Dean’s crotch and the way his hard cock tented the material of his boxers, a small wet dot forming against the well worn cotton that Sam knew was precome leaking from the tip: he was having the same issue himself, his own cock hard and throbbing between his legs. 

Picking up the ends of ribbon, Dean’s eyes darted upward to his brother’s face, the corners of his lips quirking upward just slightly in a grin before he lowered his gaze once more. Using the tips of each end of ribbon, Dean drew the soft fabric across the juncture where groin and thigh met, the sweep of velvet ticklingly soft like the brush of butterfly wings against his brother’s skin. 

Sam gasped in a breath, body jerking at the soft prickly feel along sensitive flesh, his arms tugging against the ribbon restraining them in an effort to slap his hand over the area and scrub the tingling sensation away. 

Dean’s eyes darted upward, looking at Sam’s face from under his brows, “What’s ’a matter, Sammy?” He asked knowingly, his voice a low deep rumble, continuing to brush the soft velvet across delicate skin teasingly. 

Sam lifted his head up off the pillows, looking down his body at his brother, shooting Dean a half-hearted glare before his head fell back against the pillow, tongue darting out to lick across his lips, his breaths panting out softly from between them afterward. His cock twitched at his brother’s taunting caresses, then outright bobbed as Dean drew the tail of the ribbon along the underside of his dick, precome oozing from the tip. He struggled against the length of ribbon binding him, teeth clenched in frustration at not being able to move, nostrils flaring. 

“Dammit, Dean…” He groaned, brow furrowing miserably at how wonton and un-authoritative his voice sounded. 

Dean gave a soft roguish chuckle as he lowered his eyes once more, wrapping each end of the ribbon around his brother’s groin and crisscrossing it, before slipping his hands under Sam’s ass. 

“Lift,” Dean demanded distractedly, keeping his attention on the task at hand. 

Sam’s head rolled to the side on the pillow only to roll back at Dean’s command, gazing down at his brother as he planted his feet and lifted his ass up off the mattress. 

Dean crisscrossed the ribbon at the cleft of his brother’s ass, then pulled it back around, wrapping it back around each of his brother’s thighs and pulling it back around where he tied it off. He pulled the length of ribbon that was left up between his brother’s legs and upward, making a ’V’ shape around Sam’s cock and balls before running the length back down around them both, cinching the base of his brother’s dick and balls up tight.

Sam gasped in a breath, head lifting to look down the length of his body at his neatly wrapped up cock, feeling the heavy weight of his balls pulled up tight against his dick by the ribbon. His breaths panted out heavily from between his parted lips, chest rising and falling with each one, his heart hammering in his chest. His cock ached, throbbing with the want to come, balls tightening with need. Tearing his eyes from the sight of his cock, the tip glistening wet with precome, Sam looked up at his brother and slowly shook his head. 

“Dean, please…” He rasped softly. 

Dean leaned down, hands pressed to the mattress as he climbed backward off the bed, “S’okay,” he soothed softly, eyes darting between Sam’s face and his cock. He bit his lip, a low moan tearing from his throat as he reached for the elastic band of his boxers, slipping them down. 

“S’gonna be so good, baby,” Dean promised as his eyes met Sam’s, “trust me.” 

Sam swallowed an uncertain whimper and lowered his head back to the pillow, closing his eyes, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides. 

Dean stepped out of his boxers, kicking them to the side before stepping forward and leaning over the end of the bed, hands pressed flat against the mattress, crawling back up and reclaiming his former position. 

He eased back a bit and bent over his brother’s groin, dipping his head, eyes flickering closed as he took Sam’s cock deep into his mouth, giving a long low groan that rumbled against the head of his brother‘s dick as the tip bottomed out against the back of his throat. 

Sam gasped sharply, eyes opening wide only to squeeze tightly closed after, his hips snapping upward of their own accord. His fisted hands opened, fingers splaying tautly as his muscles tensed, head pressing back against the pillow, neck arching.

Dean slowly pulled his head back before lowering it again, his mouth sliding up and down the length of his brother’s shaft as he hummed, tongue flicking at the underside of Sam’s cock. He reached for the bottle of lube that lay on the mattress nearby and pulled it back, popping open the cap with his thumb as he continued to suck his brother’s dick, head bobbing, taking Sam’s cock deep and pulling back. 

“Oh God…” Sam moaned, cock pulsing in his brother’s mouth, fingers clawing at the bedding, pulling the linen fabric up into his fisting hands. His head rolled on the pillow, hips thrusting his dick harder into the tight wet heat of his brother’s mouth, breaths panting out harshly through parted lips. 

Reaching for his brother’s calves, Dean pushed Sam’s legs up, knees bent, feet flat against the bed before releasing him and pulling his hands away. Tipping the bottle of lube, he poured a generous amount out into his fingers, making them slick before moving the bottle to his brother’s ass, pouring lube down the crack beneath Sam’s balls, his slicked up fingers, pushing the liquid in around his brother’s tightly puckered hole as he tapped at it with the pad of his finger, pushing against it until his fingertip slipped just past the first ring of muscle. 

Sam shuddered at the feel of cool lube running down his ass crack, the thrust of his hips stuttering and faltering for a moment, feet sliding against the mattress before regaining his footing as he struggled against the bonds holding him. He opened his eyes and lifted his head, looking down the length of his body, a ragged moan tearing from his throat at the sight of Dean’s full lips wrapped around his cock, cheeks hallowed out as his brother sucked him. His head fell back against the pillows, breaths coming out in short soft bursts feeling Dean tease and press at his hole, eliciting another low wanton groan from deep in his throat. 

Flipping the cap closed, Dean tossed the bottle onto the mattress and slowly lifted his head, slurping his saliva wetly from the tip where it had drooled out before allowing Sam’s cock sprang free from his lips. He pushed his finger deeper into his brother’s ass, past the first and second knuckle, easing it in up to the third before slowly pulling back and thrusting it in again. 

Sam grunted and moaned as Dean pushed his finger deeper inside his ass. He pushed back against his brother’s finger, toes curling into the bedding, his bound cock twitching, body writhing and straining. His teeth clenched tightly together as he lifted his head, nostrils flared, faced flushed with desire, sides heaving with his panted breaths. 

Dean pulled his finger almost out of his brother’s tight hole and added a second, thrusting them both in deep, wrist pivoting as he searched out Sam’s prostate. 

Sam drew in a sharp gasp as Dean rammed his fingers deep into his ass. His breaths came in short sharp pants as his brother twisted his wrist, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head before he closed his lids, allowing his head to drop back down onto the pillow as Dean’s fingers made contact with his prostate, his tightly bound cock bobbing and leaking precome at the intense pleasure. 

Reaching out with his free hand, Dean gripped Sam’s hip gently before sliding his hand sliding up and down the tender flesh of his brother’s side as he slid his fingers against his brother’s prostate over and over. 

“So fuckin’ hot, baby…” he murmured thickly before pulling his hand away from Sam’s hip, reaching down between his own legs and palming his cock, his hand wrapping around his throbbing length, stroking himself. Dean groaned, hissing in a breath through his teeth as he thrust his cock into his own fist. His finger’s inside his brother’s ass scissoring open before capturing the small bundle of nerves, stroking Sam’s prostate as though it were a miniature dick, matching the rhythm of his hand pumping along his own cock. 

Sam’s heels pressed down against the mattress as he strained and pushed back against Dean’s fingers, making his ass rise marginally off the bed, grunted groans and moans tumbling from his lips. His head thrashed from side to side, eyes closed, brows raised, forehead creased in a look of pleasure-pain. His fingers uncurled to splay taut before bending and clawing at the linens as he writhed. His jaw worked, mouth opening wide and relaxing, chest rising and falling hard with each panted breath. 

“Please…” he pleaded breathlessly, a soft near whimper that he tried to stifle tearing from his throat, nipples pebbling, his balls drawing up painfully tight. 

“Lemme come…” Sam begged. “Please, Dean,” he panted, tendons in his neck protruding as his neck arched back, “lemme come,” he nearly shouted, his cock pulsing and throbbing, precome leaking down the side. 

Sam’s pleasured responses had Dean pumping his own dick faster, his own pleasured grunted groans breaking from his throat. His fingers stroked Sam’s prostate at the same quick pace, reveling at the sounds that tumbled from his brother’s lips, the way his body writhed, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, the look of Sam’s neck as he arched it back, the deep almost purple hue of the tip of his brother’s dick and the way it pulsed and twitched impatiently. 

At his brother’s tortured request, Dean stopped stroking himself and released his cock; reaching for the bottle of lube. He popped the top once again with his thumb, allowing the bottle to tip upside down in his hand. Squeezing a good amount out of the liquid onto his palm, he released the bottle, letting it fall from his fingers and roll from the bed onto the floor. Wrapping his hand back around his dick, Dean stroked himself with fast long hard pulls along his length, smearing the lube along his shaft; his fingers in his brother’s ass continuing to stoke mercilessly at Sam’s prostate. 

Sam lifted his head up off the pillows and let it fall back down, a tortured groaned growl tearing from his throat, teeth clenched tightly together, jaw clenched, nostrils flared. One foot against the mattress slipped forward, leg nearly straightening before he pulled it back up. He thrashed, writhing and bucking, pushing back against the fingers in his ass, hands grasping the bedclothes in white knuckled grips. 

“Deeean…” he pleaded, head pressing back against the pillows, back arching. 

Dean’s gaze darted back up to Sam’s tortured expression, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he leaned over his brother. His fingers released their grip on Sam’s prostate before pulling from his ass as he lined the blunt tip of his cock with his brother’s hole. 

“S’okay, Sammy, I gotcha,” Dean soothed huskily.

With his free hand, Dean pulled at the bindings on his brother’s cock and balls, freeing them. Using that hand to brace his weight, palms flat against the mattress near his brother’s head, Dean used his opposite hand to guide the tip of his dick inside Sam’s ass, past the first tight ring of muscle. Pulling his hand away, Dean rammed his cock balls deep inside his brother with one thrust. 

“Aaugh!” Sam cried out, neck arched back dramatically, head pressing into the pillow, his eyes squeezed, his back arched, body pushing back against his brother’s cock. 

Dean clenched his teeth, a guttural groaned growl tearing from his throat, face flushed, cock pulsing inside the warm clenching tightness of his brother’s ass. 

“Sonuvabitch,” Dean growled through his teeth, nostrils flaring as he panted his breaths. 

Sam’s head slowly lowered from the extreme tilt, his unfocused, passion glazed eyes blinking open to gaze up into his brother’s face, breaths panting hard through parted lips. 

“Oh God… oh God…” he breathed, throat convulsing as he swallowed hard afterward. 

Dean slid his hand holding his weight forward, letting his elbow bend, his body falling more over Sam’s as he rested his weight on his forearm instead before he moved his opposite arm in a near mirror position on either side of his brother’s head. 

“Feel so good, baby,” he panted thickly, “so fuckin’ tight…” 

Sam’s lips parted, breath panting out in a rush, “So good,” he agreed, nodding his head, “more… make me come,” he begged, head rolling on the pillow as he pushed back against Dean’s cock, thrusting his hips, making his trapped aching dick rub against the flesh of their stomachs. 

Dean dipped his head, teeth scraping along the side of his brother’s neck, tongue darting out to lick swirl patterns against the tender flesh with the tip of his tongue, suckling at the area afterward hard enough to leave his mark behind. Releasing the abused skin, Dean pulled his head back marginally, hands gripping each side of his brother’s face, turning Sam’s head back toward him. He searched his brother’s face momentarily, digits sliding up into Sam’s hair, fingers curling into tight fists within the silken strands as he dipped his head again and slanted his mouth over Sam’s, his tongue pushing its way past brother’s lips and into his mouth as he held Sam’s head immobile.

He began thrusting in and out of his brother, moving like a piston as he ravaged Sam’s mouth, tangling his tongue with his brother’s and nipping at his lips, teeth knocking together as they kissed, desperate moans and soft mewls tumbled from Sam’s throat, mixing with Dean’s grunted groans and low moans as he rammed his cock deep inside his brother; their stomachs rubbing against Sam’s trapped cock with each thrust. 

Lungs beginning to burn with the need for air, Sam tried to tear his mouth away from his brother’s only to have Dean continue to hold him firmly, not allowing him to move his head, tongue mapping out his mouth mercilessly, a low groaned whimper of complaint tearing from his throat. 

His back arched as he pushed back against his brother’s cock with each of Dean’s thrusts, hips thrusting his cock between their bodies, faster, moving erratically as he felt the familiar heat pool low, his balls drawing up painfully tight, tearing a gasped whimper from deep in his throat. He struggled to tear his mouth away from Dean’s, body thrashing. He arched his neck back severely, eyes squeezed tightly closed, chest rising and falling hard, nostrils flared wide, his hands opening, fingers splaying taut against the mattress as his muscles clenched. 

Dean pulled his head back abruptly, gasping in a breath as Sam’s inner muscles clamped down around his cock, teeth clenched tightly together a groaned growl tearing from his throat. 

“Fuck, Sammy…” he panted hoarsely, “gonna snap m’dick off…”

Sam gulped in breaths, body straining up against Dean’s, nipples pebbling once more, face flushed a deep crimson. 

“Oh…. God….” Sam groaned between held breaths, tendons in his neck protruding. 

“Dean!” Sam shouted, body jerking, muscles spasms racking his body, his fingers curling into fight fists, clutching at the bed linens as the first ribbon of spunk shot from his cock smearing between their stomachs. 

Dean gasped and panted his breaths hard, eyes squeezing closed, his cock pulsing inside his brother as he continued to thrust within the tight grip of Sam’s clenched muscles, the rhythm now erratic as heat pooled low in his belly, his balls drawing up tight to his body. His teeth clenched, nostrils flared, face flushed a bright scarlet making his freckles stand out, nipples pebbling, muscles tensing, head lolling back. 

A deep growl tore from Dean’s throat, followed by a shout of his brother’s name a second before he came hot and hard, filling his brother’s ass. He continued to move, thrusting hard into his brother a few moments longer once his orgasm subsided before collapsing down onto Sam as he lie panting, body limp and sated. 

Sam grunted softly as Dean’s body slumped onto his own, his legs slowly sliding down against the mattress and straightening out. He swallowed hard, panted breaths pausing a moment before resuming as his lips parted once more. 

Dean tucked his face in against Sam’s neck as he fought to catch his breath which panted hotly out against the tender flesh of his brother’s throat. 

“Was so good…” Dean breathed softly against the sensitive skin of his brother’s neck. 

Sam nodded, “Yeah…” he agreed hoarsely, brow furrowing as he turned his head as far toward his brother as he could with Dean‘s face buried against the side of his neck. “Think you can untie me now?” Sam murmured as he wiggled within the confines of the ribbon holding him.

Dean slowly lifted his head, gazing down at his brother, lips curling into a small weary grin as he gave a soft snort and nodded. 

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, “yeah, I can…” 

Sam’s lips quirked upward at the corners, his eyes locked on Dean’s, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he nodded in return, “’Kay,” he whispered. 

His gaze locked with his brother’s, Dean’s hands slowly slid against the mattress, bracing palms flat against it, pushing himself up onto all fours, hands and knees straddling Sam’s body. The motion causing his dick to slip the remainder of the way out of his brother’s tight heat; eliciting a soft grunt to tumble from his lips at the loss, eyes closing briefly before he opened them once more. His head hung between his shoulder blades as he dipped his head and pressed his lips to Sam’s, kissing him tenderly before slowly pulling back, tongue darting out to lick the taste of Sam’s kiss from his lips. 

“Untie you,” Dean repeated with a nod, “right,” he mumbled with a sigh before crawling backward down his brother’s body, kneeing Sam’s legs further apart and crawling in between them, sitting back on his heels as he reached for the knot he’d tied between his brother’s legs. 

Sam watched his brother crawl down his body, teeth scraping against his bottom lip as he watched the play of muscles in his brother’s arms and shoulders. Dean was right, he really was hot; not that Sam actually thought Dean meant that when he said it about himself, at least not in a vain way. It was another way for Dean to hide his true feelings from others, just like his snark and sarcasm and all of his jokes. 

Struggling with the knot for a few minutes Dean’s brow furrowed in annoyance when the knotted ribbon refused to untie. Giving a disgusted huff, Dean’s eyes rose to meet Sam’s, knowing his brother was watching him. 

His brow furrowed in confusion as Sam watched his brother’s face while he sat between his legs working at unfastening the knot seeing the aggravated look on Dean’s face, the pissed huff that left his brother’s lips. 

“What is it, Dean?” Sam asked when his brother‘s eyes met his own, “What’s wrong?”

“All that wigglin’ you were doin’ made the knot too damn tight for me to loosen,” Dean grumbled in irritation before he scoffed and turned his head, seeking out the weapons duffel. 

He returned his attention to Sam’s face once he’d spotted it, “M’gonna have to cut you out of it,” Dean surmised, climbing off the bed as he spoke, heading over to the weapons duffel that lay on the floor nearby. 

Sam nodded, lips pressed tightly together before his eyes widened marginally as the full force of his brother’s words hit him. He knew how sharp Dean kept his knives, knew that they could quite literally split a hair. He also knew that his brother was an expert with them and that he didn’t have anything to worry about; Dean would never hurt him. Still, the idea of Dean cutting him out of the ribbon had his heart hammering harder in his chest and nervous tension coiling in his belly. Oddly enough however, his spent cock decided to twitch at the thought as well, causing Sam’s brows to furrow at the responses of his body. His eyes tracked his brother over to the weapons duffel, watching as he crouched down beside it, unzipping the bag and searching around inside for what he wanted. 

Dean tried to find one of his sharpest knives so that he wouldn’t have any problems cutting the ribbon off his brother. One of his favorites was a large hunting knife with a serrated edge on one side of the blade, it was the one that he tended to use most often and that he often slept with under his pillow just as a precaution. 

Locating the blade he was searching for, Dean’s lips curved into a wide grin as he grabbed it and pulled it from the duffel. 

“Got it,” Dean muttered half under his breath as he pulled up, standing to his full height. 

His brother’s back was to Sam, so he wasn’t sure which knife he was talking about, though he could almost guess. He gasped softly, eyes widening as he stared at the blade in Dean’s hand as his brother turned around and started back over to the bed. 

Sam swallowed hand, his eyes darting to his brother’s face as Dean climbed back onto the bed. 

“Heh,” Sam breathed, lips curling upward in a nervous smile, “if I didn’t know better I’d think you were compensating for somethin’…” 

“Huh?” Dean mumbled, brow furrowing in confusion before his eyes tracked Sam’s as his brother looked back over at the knife he held. 

“Oh,” Dean muttered, “heh, yeah well,” he shrugged a shoulder, “s’my favorite,” he explained before walking down the mattress on his knees, reclaiming his former position. 

“Jus’ remember who it is that’s got a sharp knife next to your jewels and watch your mouth,” Dean warned, glancing up at his brother’s face, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “bitch.” 

Sam huffed, “Jerk,” he drawled, head rolling on the pillow as he rolled his eyes. 

Snickering softly, Dean lowered his gaze returning his attention to what he needed to do, face set in lines of concentration as he slid the blade of the knife up under the knot and pulled upward, the sharp blade slicing through the velvet with ease.

“There,” he muttered, pulling back the knife, his eyes flickering up to his brother’s face, “Can you wiggle outta that now?” Dean asked, quirking a brow. 

Looking down the length of his body at his brother, Sam pressed his lips together as he frowned determinedly as he struggling against the velvet ribbon that was still wrapped tightly around his body. He lifted his head up off the pillows, his gaze lowered to the offending maroon hued ribbon as he fought for freedom. Other than managing to loosen some areas while others tightened in response, he wasn’t getting very far. 

Releasing a frustrated huff, Sam let his head fall back against the pillows, his body relaxing against the mattress, eyes sliding closed for a moment as he tried not to get too agitated at his predicament.

Opening his eyes, Sam gazed down at his brother’s as he shook his head, “No,” he spat softly, “I tried and just when I thought I was gettin’ part of it loose the damn thing tightened in another.” 

“Huh…” Dean muttered, frowning thoughtfully, brows raised, his gaze dropping from his brother’s, looking down at the offending ribbon. 

“Huh?” Sam asked incredulously, his voice rising, “I tell you I’m friggin’ stuck like this and all you can say is ‘huh’?” 

Dean’s gaze rose to Sam’s face, eyes narrowed as he scowled at his brother, “What the hell do ya want me to say, Sam?” He snapped. 

“Sonuvabitch…” Dean muttered under his breath as he lowered the blade, sliding it under the ribbon at his brother’s hip. 

Sam gasped softly, his attention fixed on the knife that Dean was shoving under the velvet. His breaths caught in his throat as he stared at the blade, watching as Dean gave a it a sharp tug upward, slicing through the ribbon. 

Releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Sam’s eyes darted up to his brother’s face a moment before lowering again as he felt Dean move the blade to the next wrap of ribbon repeating the process. 

Sam held as still as possible not wanting Dean’s hand to slip and wind up cutting him open. His gaze remained riveted on the sharp blade, the cold metal brushing against his tender flesh each time his brother slipped it under the velvet as Dean slowly made his way up his side, sliding the blade effortlessly through the ribbon like a hot knife through butter. 

He fought against the compulsion to move his forearm once the ribbon was cut away and reach for the velvet strips that lay crisscrossed over his chest, wanting to tug at them in an attempt to extricate himself of what was left of his bindings. Instead, he waited until Dean finished slicing through the remaining strips of ribbon that were wrapped around his biceps, cutting him the remainder of the way free. Sam quickly lifted his arm, hand hastily grasping the ribbon that now lay loosely across his chest, yanking at the tangled mess of ribbon, wrenching his body free of it. 

Leaning forward, Dean slid the knife up under his pillow before pulling back once more and reaching for the snarled pile of ribbon Sam had pulled off of himself, tossing it off the bed and onto the floor. He started to lower himself down onto the mattress only to pause, head bowed as he looked down at his stomach then over at Sam’s noting the smeared and half dried streaks of cum that until now they had both disregarded. 

He lifted his head, his gaze meeting Sam’s, “Heh, maybe I oughta get us a washcloth, eh?” Dean asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he raised his brows. 

Sam lips quirked slightly, giving a self-conscious smile as he nodded, “Yeah, probably would be good,” he agreed softly. 

Dean nodded in agreement before sitting back on the mattress and swinging his legs off the side, standing to his feet. He walked across the room and into the tiny adjoining bathroom, flipping on the light as he entered, and reached for one of the washcloths that Abram obviously had provided for his guests. He then reached with his opposite hand for the faucet, turning on the water and waited a moment while the water warmed up before lowering the washcloth under the running water, ringing the cloth out afterward. Grabbing the small bar of soap that was sitting on the side of the sink, Dean lathered the cloth before scrubbing it over his own stomach, washing away the evidence of Sam’s release. Once he finished, his stomach now cleaned off he ran the cloth back under the water and repeated the soaping process before reaching up with one hand and shutting off the water. Turning, he flipped off the light and walked out of the bathroom and over to the bed. 

“Cute ass,” Sam mentioned, grinning up at his brother as he stood over him at the side of the bed. 

Dean returned his brother’s grin and quirked a brow, “Okay, whadda you want?” He teased. 

Sam chuckled and shook his head, “I was just sayin’…” 

“Uh-huh,” Dean mumbled, shooting his brother a look of disbelief, his grin still held firmly in place. 

He lowered the washcloth to Sam’s stomach, gently scrubbing away the drying streaks of his cum. Folding the cloth he tossed it toward the bathroom door before lowering a hand, pressing it palm flat against the mattress and flopping his body onto the bed, face down, next to his brother with a weary sigh. 

“Dude, that _so_ missed the bathroom,” Sam chuckled, his eyes on the washcloth that had landed on the wood floor halfway across the bedroom. 

Dean grunted and shrugged slightly, turning his head away from Sam, eyes closed, “S’close enough,” he mumbled sleepily, “m’tired.” 

Sam scooted closer to his brother and rolled toward him, lifting his head and shoulder’s off the bed before reaching out and wrapping an arm around Dean, pressing his hand down against the bed as he dipped his head and pressed his lips to the back of his brother’s neck. 

“G’night, Dean,” Sam murmured softly, “I love you,” he said before pulling back and laying down against the pillows once more, his face turned toward Dean. He moved one hand, laying it against the side of his brother’s lower back as he closed his eyes. 

“Mmmmmmm, night, Sammy,” Dean muttered drowsily, “love you too…” 

David rolled over for the hundredth time, unable to sleep after the nightmare he’d had about his sister, Marcie who had passed away last summer. Some sick son of a bitch had killed her, slit her throat after he’d beaten and raped her. She’d been on her way back home having broken up with her boyfriend and was moving back home. The incident had happened the night before she was supposed to arrive, she had called and said she was too tired to drive any further and was going to get a room and order some pizza. Apparently the pizza never showed, but the driver had. 

An irritated huff escaped David’s lips as he sat up in the bed and swung his legs over the side. He stood to his feet and walked over to the bedroom door, hand reaching out and grasping the knob, pulling the door open. Maybe if he got a drink and walked around a while he could get the nightmarish image of her beaten and battered face out his mind. Stepping out into the hall clad only in pajama pants, he paused briefly, looking to the left then right before continuing on, heading down the corridor toward the lobby. 

******

Sam’s eyes moved behind closed lids as he dreamt, watching the blond haired young man they’d met earlier walk down the hallway before his attention was diverted away, moving instead to the wall at the end of the hall, watching as crimson rivulets of blood began to seep out from between the bricks. 

******

Walking through the lobby and into the kitchen area, David reached for the small refrigerator that Abram had brought up to the motel, tugging open the door and reached inside, pulling out the carton of orange juice before releasing the door and stepping over to the counter where a plastic bag half full of red plastic cups sat. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out one of the cups, pouring himself a glass, sitting the carton down on the counter afterward. He swirled the orange liquid in the glass as he looked down at it scoffing softly as he shook his head. Lifting the glass to his lips, David started to take a drink only to pause as he heard a sound that seemed to be coming from the lobby area. Frowning in confusion, he set the cup down onto the counter, walking back the way he had come. 

“Hello?” He called as he made his way back into the lobby. 

******

Sam’s eyes darted faster behind his eyelids, his head rolling on the pillow as scenes flashed in his mind; men in short white lab coats piling bricks on top of bricks, creating a wall. Hands reaching out in fear he heard mingled screams and groans coming from behind the newly formed wall. 

“No,” Sam mumbled softly in his sleep, head rolling in the opposite direction on the pillow.

He watched David in the dream walk back into the lobby before Sam’s attention redirected over to the nearby wall, catching the flicker of movement off in one corner of the room. 

******

David’s brows furrowed in puzzlement as he caught the flash of movement on the far side of the lobby, head tilting slightly to the side, eyes narrowing. Walking over to the darkened corner David searched for what had been the source of movement only to find nothing. 

He turned toward the wall with a huff, shaking his head at his own over active imagination and was about to take a step back away from it intending to return to the kitchen only to have a hand burst through the bricks and into his stomach. 

******

Sam’s breaths came faster, head thrashing on the pillow as he watched the hand reach out, busting its way through brick and flesh. 

******

David’s eyes widened in shock, tortured sounds of pain and panic tearing from his throat, his body jerking and shuddering violently. His head slowly lowered, wide terror-filled eyes staring downward, taking in the arm that protruded from the wall, the hand of which disappearing inside his stomach. 

His lips parted, a horrified and pain-filled scream tearing from his throat before his entire body was suddenly sucked into the wall, blood splattering across the room from the hole, bricks tumbling from the wall onto the floor in his wake. 

******

Sam screamed, jackknifing up in bed, a fine sheen of sweat covering his body and dampening his hair. 

Dean quickly sat up next to his brother, eyes wide and full of concern. 

“Sammy, what it is?” Dean asked. 

Sam frowned and shook his head before scrambling out of the bed, “We missed somethin’,” he answered in a panic as he grabbed up his clothes and hastily began to dress. 

Dean swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood to his feet, frowning in confusion at his brother, though he started grabbing up his own clothes, pulling them on. 

“What do you mean, ‘we missed somethin’?” he asked, brow furrowed in bewilderment. 

Sam looked up at his brother as he pulled his jeans on, “It’s David,” Sam answered distractedly. 

Dean scowled at his brother as he fastened his jeans, “What’s David?”

Sam scoffed, “I saw him, I - I had a vision and I saw David die,” Sam explained, “There’s something in the Inn after all.” 

Brow still knitted, Dean stared incredulously at his brother. 

_‘Another goddamn vision?’_

He shook himself out of his stupor, frowning at his brother, “You mind expanding on that, Ghost Whisperer?” Dean snapped. 

Sam scoffed in annoyance, lips pressing in a thin line as he paused in fastening his jeans and shot his brother an irritated look. 

“I watched David walk out of his room… the wall at the end of the hallway bled, Dean,” he spat. 

Sam buttoned his jeans and reached for his tee, “He went into the kitchen and got some orange juice,” he said, frowning thoughtfully, tee held in his hands. “There was something in the lobby,” he shook his head, “he must have heard a noise or something, I dunno. I saw him walk back into the lobby… and there was something in the corner, it busted through the wall and reached into his stomach,” Sam explained with a sigh, pulling his on his t-shirt. 

Dean’s eyes widened marginally as he listened before glancing away from Sam, grabbing his tee, pulling it up over his head as he looked back at his brother. 

Pulling the hem of his t-shirt down over his body, Dean’s brows rose as he frowned thoughtfully, head tilting to one side slightly, “Well, I always said O.J. was a killer,” Dean muttered matter-of-factly. 

Sam huffed in exasperation, slightly slanted eyes tightening, lips pressed in a line. 

“That wasn’t funny,” he muttered, reaching for his flannel. 

Dean lifted his brows as he looked over at his brother, lips pulled down in a small frown. He shrugged a shoulder as he pulled on his flannel and reached for his jacket. 

“It was kinda funny,” he protested, slipping his jacket on. 

Sam watched his brother walk over to the weapons duffel, pulling out rock salt shells and a couple of sawed off shot guns. 

He shook his head as he finished buttoning his over shirt and reached for his jacket, “No,” he argued, “it wasn’t,” said Sam, stepping over to his brother, taking one of the shot guns and a few rounds of rock salt before turning and walking purposefully toward the bedroom door. 

Dean sighed, watching as his brother marched angrily toward the door. An exasperated low growl tore from his throat as he turned and stormed to and out the door after his brother. 

The Winchesters stepped into the lobby to find it already filled with the other guests; all of whom were standing in a semicircle facing one corner of the room, staring horrifically at the splattered blood that covered the broken brick wall and floor. 

The brothers came to a halt as all eyes seemed to go to them. 

“Guns?” Cody asked, glaring accusingly at the Winchesters, “What the hell are you two doing with guns?” 

“Sam, what’s going on?” Angelo asked, frowning in confusion as he looked over at his friend, stepping around Monica to face the brothers. 

“Look,” Sam started as he took a step forward, “everyone just needs to leave,” he explained, “now, before anyone else gets hurt.”

“Did you kill…?” Monica asked, glancing back toward the blood dripping wall and cringing before she returned her attention to Sam. 

“We didn’t kill anyone,” Dean interjected as he stepped forward around Sam and continued toward the group. 

“And my brother’s right, the rest of you need to get your shit and get out of here,” he reiterated, “Sam and I’ll take care of whatever it is that’s going on here.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Cody snorted, shaking his head incredulously. “Are you tryin’ to get all the money yourself?” 

“Come on, Cody, cut it out,” Amber muttered, huffing in annoyance. 

Dean frowned in irritation at Cody, “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

“It’s the place, it’s the place, I didn’t think it was true, I thought it was just a rumor, ya know? Like somethin’ people were makin’ up,” Abram mumbled brokenly as he started to pace anxiously, drawing everyone’s attention. 

Dean’s attention snapped to their host, “What the hell are you talkin’ about?” He snapped. 

Abram looked over at Dean, tears in his blue eyes as he shook his head. He glanced at Sam before returning his attention to Dean. 

“It’s not an Inn, it’s an old asylum,” he explained, “they turned it into an Inn back in 1906 when they added onto the place, before that it was known as the Burberry Mental Hospital. It was run by this guy named Doctor Andrew Benjamin Dunham,” he shook his head, tears making salty tracks down his cheeks, “they say he died here… supposedly his patients took over the place and they killed him.”

“So the good doctor is having a little revenge at our expense?” Dean asked, glancing at Sam.

“Or the patients,” Sam muttered quietly, glancing quickly at his brother before returning his attention to their very distraught host. 

“Yes,” Abram nodded, “no,” he shook his head, gritting his teeth. “Probably **all** of them!” he yelled, choking on a sob. 

“Shit,” Jamal swore softly. 

Dean sighed heavily in irritation, “Sonuva…”

“Wait, you people are tryin’ to say that this ghost shit is real?” Jesse asked incredulously.

Dean pressed his lips together tightly in annoyance, his attention going to Jesse. 

He huffed softly, shaking his head, “Yeah, damn real “he answered softly. 

Looking around from one person to the other, Dean gave a nod, “Alright, everybody out,” he commanded, “just leave your shit and head for the door.”

“You fuckin’ asshole!” Cody yelled at Abram as he grabbed him by the front of his sleep shirt, pulling back a fist. 

Abram cringed, squeezing his eyes tightly closed as he waited for the punch he more than deserved.

Sam hurried over to them, catching Cody’s arm before he could throw a punch. 

“Hey, chill out, man,” Sam told him, “that’s not gonna help anything.” 

A loud mechanical moan echoed throughout the building, followed by the whine of a motor as metal slabs began to lower over all the windows and doors. 

“Sonuvabitch!” Dean growled. “Move Move Move!” 

“What is that? What’s happening?” Kelley asked as they all ran for the front door. 

“Lock down,” Sam called in answer as he and Dean followed after her and the other guests toward the door in an attempt to help see them out. 

The metal slab fell into place sealing off the door just as the first guest reached it, the others coming to a halt behind him. 

Jamal turned and looked fearfully back and Sam and Dean, “Now whadda we do?”

The metal slabs had already slid down over the windows as they’d run for the front door and now that too was blocked, taking away all means of escape, leaving them trapped. 

Dean and Sam exchanged looks before they both sighed heavily, staring at the sealed door in aggravation. 

“I don’t care if the bastard thought it was a joke or not, if this place is haunted, let the damn ghosts have his ass!” Cody spat as he nodded angrily at Abram. 

They had all returned to the lobby after their attempted escape turned sour. Monica and Jamal sat on the old red sofa while Cody paced before the large cold fireplace. Abram stood with his back leaning against one wall, arms crossed over his chest, fidgeting anxiously. Kelley stood to one side near Angelo her arms crossed over her chest, hands rubbing her arms as though she were cold. Amber lounged back in one of the two wing chairs, her legs crossed; one swinging with nervous energy. 

Dean’s brows furrowed as he looked over at Cody, “We’re not _giving_ the ghosts anyone,” he corrected, glancing at Sam who stood beside him at the far side of the room. 

Sam frowned, lips pressed together tightly, a heavy sigh escaping, brows furrowed as he gave a small shake of his head. 

Sighing heavily, Dean lifted a hand, running it down his face before letting it drop to his side, the grip his opposite he had on the shot gun in his opposite hand tightening marginally. 

“Sam and I’ll check the place out,” _again_ he explained, “you guys stick together,” he instructed, “nobody leaves this room.”

The Winchesters looked at one another. 

“We need salt,” Dean muttered. 

Sam nodded, lips pressed together, “Get them inside a circle,” he suggested. 

Dean nodded, “Yeah, s’what I was thinkin’ too.”

With a sigh, Dean glanced down at the shotgun in his hand before looking up at his brother and jerking his head to the side toward the hall leading toward their room. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” he muttered before turning and heading toward the hall. 

A muscle twitched in Sam’s clenched jaw as he gave a nod and started after his brother. 

“Wait a goddamn minute!” Cody growled as he stepped away from the fire place to stand in the center of the room, hands clenched into tight angry fists, his attention on Sam and Dean. “You aren’t just gonna fucking leave us all here to rot while you to go off and do God knows what!” 

Dean turned back around at the same time that Sam did, both with furrowed brows.

“Lay off the ’roids, dude,” Dean sneered. 

Sam glanced back at his brother and shook his head, frowning in confusion, “No, he wasn’t like this earlier, somethin’s up,” he muttered before returning his attention to Cody. 

Dean huffed, “You mean other than his blood pressure?” He asked flippantly. 

“Hey, fuck you!” Cody spat angrily, taking a step forward before the dark navy hued drapes hanging at each side of the room along rows of metal slab covered windows seemed to come alive, snaking out and wrapping around first one of Cody’s wrists then the other, stretching his arms out wide. 

Dean’s eyes widened as he lifted the rifle intent on shooting… what he couldn’t see as there didn’t seem to be anything there. His eyes darted between one of Cody’s outstretched arms, searching for even a single flicker of an apparition. 

Pain sliced through Sam’s skull, his eyes closing in discomfort as a vision began to play in his mind. At each side of the room near Cody stood patients of the old asylum, each of them holding onto one end of the curtains, pulling at the fabric wrapped tightly around Cody’s wrists. 

Cody’s head quickly turned, looking from one bound arm to the other, eyes wide with panic, breaths panting out fearfully. 

The girls screamed, scurrying over to the other guys in the group, cringing as they all stared in shock at Cody. 

Sam staggered toward the nearby wall as he reached up with one hand, grasping at his forehead, a tortured grunt pushing past his lips as his side collided with the wall, the rifle he held falling from his free hand onto the floor with a loud clatter. 

“Sammy?” Dean called to his brother anxiously, brow furrowed in mixed concern and confusion. 

Face tilting upward, eyes still squeezed tightly closed in agony, Sam’s lips parted as he drew in a pained breath, “Dean,” he groaned. 

Two more curtains shot out wrapping around Cody’s ankles spreading his legs wide, his body lifting up off the floor, suspended spread eagle in the air. 

Cody looked back at the others, his eyes wide as saucers, gulping in horrified breaths, the material pulling harder at his limbs stretching his body to near breaking point. 

“Help me,” he breathed, chest heaving with terror, “help me, help me, help me…” he chanted over and over again. 

“Sonuvabitch,” Dean growled through clenched teeth, aiming the shotgun at the dark material holding onto the young man, pulling the trigger only to have nothing happen other then the material pull tighter, Cody’s body rising up slightly more. 

“Dean,” Sam groaned as he turned, back pressed against the wall, lifting his opposite hand to join the first, pressing the heels of his palms against his forehead. 

“It’s the patients… I can see them… they’re the ones pulling him…” he grunted breathlessly. 

Dean stared flabbergasted at his brother before his brow furrowed in confusion, “You can _see_ them?” He asked incredulously. 

Cody screamed in pain as his limbs were pulled tautly; the joints popping painfully. 

“Oh God, help him!” Kelley cried, “Somebody help him!”

“Dude!” Angelo called out to Cody as he started toward him. 

“Oh God, they’re gonna kill us all, they’re gonna kill us all,” Abram sobbed.

“Nah, man, nah,” Jamal argued, “this isn’t fuckin’ happenin,” it’s just a nightmare we all need ta wake up from,” he muttered anxiously, shaking his head. 

Sam’s nose began to bleed down his face as images of the doctor appearing, scalpel in hand blocking Angelo’s path bombarded his brain. He cracked his eyes open, looking toward Angelo as he rushed toward Cody. 

“Angelo, no!” Sam shouted a second before Angelo went flying backward across the room, his body smacking into the brick wall before sliding down to the floor. 

“Dean, he’s here, it’s the doctor!” Sam shouted. 

Dean’s eyes widened, “It is? Where? Where is he, Sam?” He yelled back, aiming his shot gun at first one side of Cody then the other. 

Cody gave a blood curdling scream, his head lolling back as one arm began to rip from its socket, blood pumping out in time with his heartbeats as the limb was torn from his frame. 

Sam staggered forward toward Cody without answering his brother, blood running down his face from his nose, his head throbbing; heart pounding in his chest. 

“Sam!” Dean shouted before gritting his teeth in frustration. 

As Sam drew closer to Cody, the kid screamed in horror and pain once more, his head turning slowly to the side, eyes wide before he burst apart, blood and chunks of his body exploding outward, coating the floor and Sam as he came to a dead halt a few feet away from where Cody had been hanging. 

Some of the blood and chunks splattered onto Dean who had started after his brother, peppering the front of his shirts, jeans and jacket, his face and neck in a thick spray. 

The room was dead silent for a moment before all of the remaining guests screamed in terror at once. 

Sam slowly lowered his hands from his forehead, arms dropping to his sides as the pain in his head subsided along with the visions. Soaked in Cody’s blood, Sam slowly turned around and looked back at his blood splattered brother as Dean sighed in discouragement. 

_Sonuvabitch…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

Shouts of ‘oh God’ were mingled with curses as the other guests scrambled back in a panic, some of them turning and clawing at the metal covered windows trying to find a way out. Others crumbled to the floor, arms wrapped around themselves staring in traumatized horror at the remains of what had just moments before been a friend or in some cases just a fellow school mate, but in every since, a human being; only to now be nothing more than bits of flesh and gallons of blood splattered all over the room. 

At the sounds of chaos, Dean and Sam’s attention swung over to the other guests. They paused only a moment, taking in the scene playing out in front of them, both boys jaws clenched at the complete anarchy they saw before they both moved at once, hurrying over to the other in an attempt to try getting everyone to calm down. 

Dean knelt down first in front of Monica and Amber who were sitting nearly in one another’s laps shaking violently as they stared at the blood and human remains on the floor. 

He reached out with one hand, laying a hand on Monica’s shoulder, his gaze darting between her and Amber, his opposite hand still clutching the shotgun. 

“It’s okay,” he comforted, “it’s gonna be okay, Sam and I, we’re gonna get you guys outta here, alright?” 

When neither of the girls responded, Dean shouted, “Alright?” forcing both their attention off the horrifying scene before them and onto him. 

They nodded mutely, tears coursing down their cheeks. 

Dean gave a brief nod as he squeezed Monica’s shoulder gently before standing to his full height and making his way over to Kelley who knelt on the floor beside Angelo who was just starting to come to after being rendered unconscious when his body had smacked the wall. 

“You alright?” Dean asked Kelley who nodded, her face tear streaked, body trembling as she gripped Angelo’s hand within her own. 

Dean glanced at Angelo and gave a nod before returning his attention to Kelley, “Look after him, alright?”

Kelley nodded and sniffled, shaking her head, “I don’t wanna die,” she muttered brokenly. 

Muscle twitching in his jaw, Dean gave his head a small shake as jade orbs gazed into dark emerald, “No one else is dyin’, Kelley,” he told her gently, “s’gonna be okay.”

Sam had rushed over to the men, pulling Jesse off the window, the young man’s finger tips raw and bloody from trying to claw his way out the window. Sam braced one hand on Jesse’s chest holding him back from being able to do any more damage to himself. 

“Stop! It’s gonna be alright, come on, man, just calm down,” demanded Sam.

“No damn white cracka ass mofo tellin’ me ta calm down,” Jamal mumbled under his breath as he shook his head, continuing to work at wedging open the thick slab of metal. 

Sam turned his attention from Jesse who seemed to have calmed, at least a little bit and for the moment, to Jamal, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to tug him back from the window.

“Come on, Jamal, stop, this isn’t getting you anywhere,” Sam reasoned. 

Jamal shrugged off Sam’s hand and continued to wedge his fingertips under the edge of the metal trying to pry it upward, muscles in his arms bulging with the effort, teeth clenched tightly together. 

With an exasperated huff as Sam glanced down at Jamal’s bleeding fingers, he reached up with his opposite hand, using both against the young man’s shoulder, pushing him back from the window. 

“Jamal listen to me!” Sam commanded. 

Jamal turned slightly toward Sam as he pulled his hands out from under the slab and drew back a fist, letting it fly, punching Sam in the jaw hard enough to send Sam’s head snapping to the side his feet staggering back a couple steps. 

“Get the fuck off me, man!” Jamal snapped. “I am not stayin’ in this place another goddamn minute! You know what happens ta brotha’s in haunted houses? Huh, do ya? We die! It never fails the brotha gets killed!” Jamal yelled anxiously as he shook out his hand. 

“Well, this brotha ain’t dyin’ for no damn white boy!” He spat. 

Pulling his attention away from Kelley and Angelo, Dean had been about to stand and walk over to their host who looked even worse than the others. He was curled up, nearly into the fetal position on the floor and by the sounds of it, crying. The sound of flesh smacking flesh had Dean pausing, his gaze darting up in time to see Sam’s head jerk to the side from Jamal’s punch. Jumping to his feet he rushed Jamal, shotgun falling to the floor just before he grabbed hold of the young man’s pajama top, slamming him back against the metal covered window, his face in Jamal’s, teeth clenched tightly together in anger. 

“You touch my brother again and you won’t have to worry about ghosts,” Dean growled low. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?” 

Dark brown eyes met green as the two of them stared stubbornly at one another for a long moment, neither one giving an inch. 

“Dean, let him go,” Sam muttered as he stepped closer, lifting a hand and laying it on Dean’s shoulder. “M’alright, let him go,” he reiterated. 

Jamal sneered, “Yeah, _Dean_ , why don’ chu back your ass up out my face?” 

Dean’s eyes narrowed before he gave Jamal a shove, releasing him. 

Turning his attention to Sam, Dean reached up and cupping each side of Sam’s neck loosely as he looked his brother over. 

“You sure you’re alright?” Dean murmured. 

Sam nodded, lifting a hand, clapping Dean on the shoulder, “Yeah, m’good,” he assured his brother, “it’s okay.” 

Dean quirked a brow as he lowered his hands to his sides, his question having been about more than just Jamal’s punch, but he refrained from further comment for now. 

“So what do you want us to do, just sit here and wait and see who’s gonna get killed next?” Jesse spat. 

Dean slowly turned around to face Jesse, his eyes narrowed, lips curved in a small sneer as he gave a soft scoff. 

“No,” Dean replied quietly, shaking his head, “I don’t want you to sit here and wait to see who’s gonna get offed next,” he paused, gaze sliding away from Jesse to look at each of the others in turn before he started to pace away from the window. “Because no one else is gonna die here,” he informed, “Sam and I,” his gaze darted over to his brother before returning to the others, “are gonna figure this out. We’re gonna get us all the hell outta here and we’re gonna kill these evil sonsabitches while we’re at it.”

“And why should we believe you?” Jamal cut in. 

“Because it’s what Sam and I do,” Dean quipped as he looked back over at Jamal. 

“Sam and I,” he said, his gaze moving back over the others, “we hunt this stuff… and we kill it.”

“Is that true, man?” asked Angelo from where he was now sitting up, his back braced against the wall. 

Sam looked over at Angelo as his friend spoke before his gaze swung back to his brother, nodding, “Yeah,” he answered softly, returning his attention to Angelo, “it is.” 

Crossing the distance between himself and his brother, Sam sighed heavily. 

“We need to get our stuff; this isn’t anything like we’re use to dealing with,” Sam muttered softly. 

Dean’s gaze moved from the group to his brother as Sam walked over. He eyed his brother a long moment and finally nodded, “Yeah,” he agreed. 

“What about you? What’s going on here, Sam?” Dean asked, quirking a brow. 

Sam shook his head, “What do you mean?”

Dean narrowed his eyes, “I mean with this psychic stuff and you being the only one who can see these sonsabitches,” he hissed, “and what’s with the bloody nose?”

Sam scoffed softly, “I dunno, Dean, I just… it started with the vision about David and they just… they keep coming and getting stronger every time something happens.”

Dean searched Sam’s face and shook his head, “Yeah? Well, I don’t like it,” he stated, “somethin’s off here Sam…” 

Frowning, Sam’s gaze fell as he gave a nod. He knew Dean was right, these weren’t his normal death visions, they were more like death echoes or something, showing him things he shouldn’t be able to see. 

Dean frowned as his gaze moved over his brother a moment, “I’ll go get our stuff,” he mumbled softly before stepping away from Sam, walking over and retrieving the shotgun he’d dropped. 

Sam’s jaw clenched stubbornly as he watched Dean walk back over to him, “No, I will,” he corrected. 

Dean frowned at his brother, “Like hell you will,” he spat softly. 

“Dean,” Sam hissed, “these people look up to you, they’re counting on you to get them out of here thanks to your little pep talk,” he shook his head, “No, I’m going,” he informed his brother. 

“What if something happens to you and I’m stuck in here playing Carol Kane?” Dean growled, stubbornly stepping in front of Sam, blocking his path. 

Sam frowned at his brother in confusion. 

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes, “When A Stranger Calls,” he quipped, frowning at his brother, “don’t you ever watch movies?” 

Sam blew out a breath, “Only ones made after 1990,” Sam grumbled. 

Dean frowned incredulously at his brother, brow furrowed, “God you’re a freak,” he mumbled, closing his eyes as he shook his head, completely missing the hurt look that flashed across Sam’s face.

Opening his eyes, Dean gave a curt nod, “Rock, paper, scissors?”

Sam rolled his eyes heavenward as he gave a soft chuckle before fixing his gaze on his brother and giving a nod. 

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed, shifting his weight and opening his stance before they swung their fists in a hammering motion three times in front of them, Dean stopping on scissors and Sam on rock. 

“Dammit,” Dean swore, eliciting a chuckle out of his brother before Sam side stepped around Dean, heading toward the hall, pausing to grab the rifle he’d dropped earlier before continuing on. 

“Hey,” Dean called to his brother as he turned around to face him, causing Sam to stop and look back at him. “be careful,” he said, gazing at his brother lovingly. 

Sam’s pressed his lips together in a small soft smile, “I will,” he answered softly before turning away and starting back toward the hall.

“And maybe grab a towel too, huh?” Dean called after him, “You’re kinda bloody.”

Sam nodded and waved an hand in annoyance, “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered before turning around at the threshold of the hall, a grin on his face, “Not like you’re Mr. Clean yourself,” he teased before turning back and disappearing down the hall. 

“M’not as messy as you are,” Dean grumbled under his breath, frowning as he looked down at his blood splattered clothes, one hand lifting to wipe down his face. Pulling his hand away, Dean cringed at the blood he’d managed to wipe away and likely smear across his face. 

“Hey, where the hell’s he goin’?” Jesse asked. 

“ _He_ is getting what we need to save your asses,” Dean answered matter-of-factly. 

“The asylum’ll never let him,” Abram muttered from where he sat curled up on the floor.

Dean’s jaw clenched, muscle twitching as his eyes narrowed, his attention fixed on the hall leading to the bedrooms that Sam had disappeared down. 

Amber suddenly screamed breaking the silence of the room and quickly stood to her feet, still screaming. 

Dean, who had leaned his back up against a nearby wall, watching over the others and keeping an eye out for Sam, quickly stood straighter. He allowed the shotgun barrel to fall from the position he’d had it, resting against his shoulder, into his free hand as he his opposite hand clutched the grip. Jade orbs darted, searching for the cause of Amber’s screams, hunter’s instincts on full alert. 

“What is it, what’s wrong?” He shouted over her ear piercing frantic cries. 

“Rat! It’s a rat!” She screeched before taking off, running out of the room toward the kitchen area. 

“Whoa! Whoa! Get back here!” Dean shouted, using the same commanding voice his father would, only Amber didn’t stop, didn’t listen just kept running. 

“Sonuva…” Dean swore disgustedly before turning his attention on the others, “Stay together, no one moves from this room, I’ll be back in a second,” he growled, storming off after Amber. 

“Wait! You can’t just leave us here!” Monica shouted after him.

“I said I’ll be back!” Dean snapped angrily without a backward glance. 

“Great, fuckin’ great,” Jamal mumbled, “because some damn rat wanted a piece’a vanilla cream pie, I’m gonna die now,” he huffed, shaking his head. 

Dean marched into the kitchen area to find Amber standing in the middle of the room, shaking like a leaf as she drank out of the tequila bottle.

“What part of ‘get back here’ don’t you understand?” Dean growled angrily, eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. 

Amber slowly pulled the bottle away from her lips as she looked over at Dean, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“You didn’t see that thing, it was vile… beady eyes, long disgusting tail… those things carry rabies, ya know,” she spat. 

Dean rolled his eyes at her, “Yeah, I know, rat, sure,” he gave a nod, reaching out with his free hand intent on pulling her out of the room and back in with the others, “they’re gross, I agree, but this is not the time to go nuts over a damn rat,” he said as he grasped her wrist and gave a gentle tug. 

“Hey, lemme go!” She demanded with a frown that slowly turned into a flirtatious pout as unseen by either Dean or Amber herself, one of the female patients of the old asylum, a nymphomaniac stood behind Amber and reached out, laying her hands against each side of Amber’s head. 

Her gaze slowly lowered to Dean’s hand on her wrist, lips curving upward into as lascivious smirk as she turned her wrist in Dean’s hand, her fingers slowly curling around his wrist, stroking slowing up and down in the small area his grip on hers would allow. 

Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion as he felt Amber grip his wrist, his gaze lowering questioningly before his eyes widened marginally, a soft gasp falling from his lips as she started to stroke the flesh of his wrist underneath his jacket and over shirt. 

His eyes darted upward to her face just as Amber lifted her own gaze, light hazel eyes staring wantonly into jade green. 

Her tongue darted out, the tip running slowly along her bottom lip, “Does this give you any ideas?” She purred, her gaze dropping pointedly for a brief moment to her hand caressing Dean’s wrist before her eyes returned to his, taking a step closer into his personal space. 

Dean’s throat convulsed as he swallowed, lips parting afterward, his gaze locked on her face, staring stupefied at her. 

“Uh, well,” his brow furrowed, “yeah, it, uh,” he chuckled awkwardly, head tilting to the side as he nodded, his eyes lowering to her hand once more “gives me a lotta ideas,” he replied with a grin before looking back up into her face, noting her pleased look, finely arched dark blond brows lifted. 

His smile slid away, “Uh, no,” he stammered, releasing her wrist and tugging his own out of her grip. He raised his fisted hand to his lips, giving a faked cough, “I mean no it doesn’t gimme _those_ , ya know… thoughts,” he muttered, clearing his throat. 

“Really?” She asked, moving closer, forcing Dean to take a step away, his back colliding with the wall. Draping her arms around Dean’s neck, she lifted her leg and wrapped it around one of Dean’s causing the end of her short night gown to lift further with the movement. 

Dean cringed back from her, “Whoa,” he gave a soft nervous chuckle, “okay now, I think we should probably go back,” he suggested, “Sam’s probably waiting for me,” he offered lamely, giving a one shouldered shrug. 

Leaning in, she dipped her head, lips brushing against the side of his neck, “Don’t go,” she whispered against his skin, her mouth slowly moving upward to his ear. 

“Help me,” she whispered in a voice that was not her own. 

Dean shoved her away from him, eyes wide with shock. 

Amber stumbled backward, the patient behind her disappearing. 

“Christo,” he said, thinking maybe she was possessed. 

Amber frowned at Dean, “It’s Amber,” she eyed him in confusion. “What’s wrong with you? And why are you smashed up against the wall?” 

Monica scoffed and climbed to her feet from where she had been sitting on the floor. 

“This is ridiculous, I’m going to my room and put some clothes on,” she informed the others. 

Kelley gasped, “Monica, you can’t go!” 

Monica frowned in irritation, “Why? Because Dean said we can’t? Please,” she sneered, “he’s probably off with Amber doing God knows what as we speak,” she spat, rolling her eyes. 

“And I am not sitting here in my pajama’s waiting to die,” she added as she stepped past Kelley and Angelo. 

“Girl, you are one dumb bitch,” said Jamal shaking his head. 

“You’ll never make it back,” Abram muttered. 

Monica looked back over her shoulder at Abram, “You and your gruesome foretellings can go to hell,” she snapped, “In fact, I hope _you’re_ the next one that dies,” she sneered. “This is all your fault!”

Abram’s eyes lifted, meeting Monica’s, his expression placid, resigned. 

“I’m sure you’ll get your wish,” he whispered numbly, gaze never flinching as he stared up at her. 

“Monica, stay,” Jesse interjected, “please.”

Monica’s blue eyes lifted to Jesse, a small smile pulling at her lips, “I’ll be fine,” she reassured before turning her attention back in front of herself, heading toward the hall. 

“Monica,” Angelo called only to have her not listen. “Monica!” He tried once more, scoffing as she disappeared down the hallway. 

Sam walked down the hall way, hazel eyes surveying the area around him as he walked, shotgun at the ready. 

Phantom laughter and the sounds of sobbing echoed through the halls around him, seeming to come from everywhere and no where at once. 

Sam’s breath hitched as he spun around, looking behind him as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Something or someone was following him, but why he wasn’t seeing them, wasn’t having a vision, he didn’t know. 

The air around him grew colder, his breaths, panting out softly between parted lips, fogged before him. 

“Help me,” a voice echoed around him softly. 

Sam spun back around, holding the rifle up and ready to shoot, fearful breaths panting faster. 

“They’re never gonna let you go…. Never let you go…” 

“The hell they’re not,” Sam muttered. “Come out where I can see you,” he demanded. 

The image of a woman wearing a white hospital gown and straight jacket appeared in flickers directly in front of Sam, her face nearly in his as she stood toe to toe with him. The skin around her eyes was blackened, her long hair in tangled disarray. She tilted her head to the side as she stared at him, her lips curving upward marginally at the corners into a deranged smirk. 

Sam stumbled back away from her quickly, tripping on his own feet and falling down onto the floor on his ass. He stared up at her in shock for a as she flickered in and out. 

As she stood there, blood slowly began to trickle out of her mouth and down her chin. 

“Help me,” she repeated, her voice echoing off the walls. 

Her image flickered in and out once more as she shook her head, her blackened eyes staring into his. 

“Never let you go,” she warned again, her voice sounding nearly sad before her image disappeared completely. 

Sam seemed to finally shake himself out of his stupor, lifting the rifle and pulling the trigger just as her image faded away. 

Monica walked down the hall and into her room with a sigh. So much for ghosts and goblins, she hadn’t seen a single thing. Not that she was doubting what they had all seen happen in the lobby, but whatever had done that, whatever had attacked Caleb and David seemed to be either over their little game or else it was some sick joke and none of it really happened. She was starting to think it was the latter. Probably some deranged idea of fun that their asshole host had conjured up in an attempt to try and make this more ‘real’ and scare everyone out of the funds he’d offered. After all, she knew she wouldn’t want to part with that much money either, especially since none of them would ever talk to him again after tonight. He hadn’t bought himself friends; he’d only managed to piss his money away. 

Stepping over to the dresser where her suitcase was set, Monica pushed back the lid and began to rummage around inside for some clean clothes. 

Pulling out a shirt, she crossed back over to the bed and took a seat on the side, reaching out toward the nearby chair and grabbing her bra and jeans, placing them on the bed next to the shirt she had picked out of her case. 

Her gaze fell to her wrists that barely showed from under her oversized sweatshirt she had worn along with boxer shorts as her pajamas. She sighed heavily as her eyes fastened on the scars that marred her wrists, reaching over with her free hand to push back the sleeve on one arm, her gaze flickering over the many horizontal scars that she had put on her body herself the many times she had tried to commit suicide. 

Her father had abused her physically as a child and her mother had been an alcoholic that couldn’t be bothered to see the many bumps and bruises all over her daughter. She had never felt wanted, not by anyone and in return she had hardened her heart, to anyone. Yet deep inside there was still a little girl that was begging for attention and affection. Maybe that was why she had allowed herself to get pregnant by the first boy who had taken an interest in her. She’d come out here to school on a scholarship, believe it or not, not that her parents could have given a rats ass. When she’d arrived it was with the news that she was four months pregnant, the fact that she had missed her period hadn’t even alerted her to the possibility since from being hit so much that she often missed or had multiple periods. When she had discovered the truth she had been overjoyed believing that with the baby, she would finally have the unconditional love she so desperately sought. She’d never dreamed that the child wouldn’t survive. That had been the last time she had tried to kill herself and had nearly succeeded. The slices in her wrists combined with the sleeping pills had been a sure thing, or so she had hoped, but she had been found by one of the administrators and rushed to the hospital. 

Lifting her eyes from the wounds on her wrists, she stared at the metal covered windows. 

“All that time fighting to stay out of one and here I am, trapped in a goddamn nut house,” she mumbled in disgust, scoffing afterward as she released her sleeve and hung her head, turning her attention to her clothes. 

The lights flickered in her room, causing Monica to lift her head and frown as she looked around, but saw nothing and a moment later the flickering ceased. 

“Lovely,” she mumbled under her breath as she shook her head with a huff and reached for the hem of her sweatshirt.

In the doorway to her room Doctor Dunham’s form flickered in and out of focus; there and then not, as he moved closer reappearing at the foot opposite side of her bed behind her. In his hands he held what looked like two ice picks though they were really surgical implements of his time. Driven in through the patient’s eyes and into their brains it was believed that he could perform a non-surgical type lobotomy, curing most patients of whatever mind altering disease ailed them. 

******

Sam had risen to his feet and made it the remainder of the way to his and Dean’s room without further incident. He threw the door open wide and hurried into the room, not bothering to close it. If he closed it he could very well be trapping himself inside. Sure, whatever was haunting this place, likely the patients from what he had seen as well as the doctor, could shut it themselves if they wanted to probably but he wasn’t going to give them any help in that area. 

Walking into the room, he started to head over to the weapons duffel and stopped, remembering what Dean had suggested about cleaning up a bit and he had to admit, the idea of getting the drying sticky blood off at least his face was an appealing idea. 

Redirecting his steps, he walked into the tiny bathroom and flipped on the light which flickered, causing Sam to pause, hunter’s instincts on full alert although nothing more happened. With a frustrated sigh, he reached for the faucet and turned on the water before reaching with his opposite hand for one of the wash cloths, getting it wet. When the rag was soaked, Sam turned off the water and looked into the small mirror for the first time since he walked into the room grimacing at the sight of his face painted red with both Caleb’s blood as well as his own from his bloody nose. 

Lifting the cloth to his face he quickly washed up as best as he could before tossing the rag into the sink and turning toward the door. He turned the light back off and hurried over to the weapons duffel, crouching beside it. He made certain it was zipped up before shouldering the strap and standing to his full height and crossing over to and out the door. 

Face set in determined lines, the rifle in hand; weapons duffel hanging from his shoulder, Sam hurried back down the hall toward the lobby. 

******

Monica pulled the shirt up and over her head and reached for her bra, catching the flickering movement of something out of the corner of her eyes as she turned her head. 

Quickly she stood to her feet and turned around to find the doctor standing there before her, a startled gasp pushing past her lips as her breath caught in her throat, eyes wide with shock and fear. 

Sam was halfway back with the first stab of blinding pain sliced through his skull causing his steps to falter. His hand clutching the rifle released it, sending the shotgun stumbling to the floor at his feet as his hands automatically rose to his head, heels of hands pressing at his temples. His eyes squeezed tightly closed as he grit his teeth, groaning in pain. He staggered forward before his shoulder collided with the wall and he turned; back flush up against the bricks as he panted in pained breaths through parted lips. 

Visions of Monica in her room swamped his gaze, the doctor standing at the foot of her bed as she turned around. 

He watched the doctors gaze drop from her face to the cuts on her wrists before slowly rising once more, searching her features as he took a step toward her. 

******

Monica reached out with one hand, snatching her sweatshirt up off the bed, covering her chest with it, her gaze never leaving the ghostly figure that continued to flicker in and out before her. 

The doctor took another step forward, causing Monica to take one backward, her back colliding with the wall. 

******

Sam watched, blood trickling from his nose down his face as Monica stared wide eyed at the doctor, frozen in fear. He saw the doctor lift both of his hands, the sharp points of the torturous medical implements raised level with her eyes. 

Monica‘s whisper soft and frightened ‘no‘ blended with Sam’s pain filled groan of the same word, a moment before the doctors arms thrust forward, jamming the picks through Monica’s eyes and into her brain. 

Monica’s blood curdling scream tore through the asylum as Sam slid down the wall collapsing onto the floor in pain. 

Black ink like sludge began to ooze from between the bricks of the wall in front of Sam, segments of the goo lifting away from the brick like feelers testing the air before more of the sludge-like substance slid out from the wall, pooling down onto the floor and spreading, fanning out as it moved, inching toward the Winchester. 

The excruciating pain in Sam’s head began to slowly ease, allowing him to ease the heels of his hands away from his head with a low moan. His eyes blinked open to mere exhausted slits as he looked around himself. With the asylum now being so quiet you could have heard a pin drop, Sam would have almost wondered if the had imagined the whole thing, though he knew better, knew how very real his visions were. 

His head rolled to one side against the bricks that he leaned against only to have his eyes widen as he stared stupefied at the large mass of black sludge-like substance that crept its way toward him. Adjusting his position, his back away from the wall, eyes laser focused on the inky substance that seemed to radiate pure evil, Sam scrambled back from it, the strap to the weapons duffel falling off his shoulder and down his arm in the process. 

The ooze rose up off the floor and loomed over him, faces slowly immerging and disappearing in the black slimy substance. 

“Ours,” the combined deep voices called out eerily. 

“Like hell,” Sam muttered, dragging his attention off the goo for a moment, head turning as his hand searched for the rifle. 

Unable to reach it, Sam looked back just in time to see the sludge begin to descend upon him. He lifted one arm up in a defensive position, arm bent at the elbow, head ducked low as he covered his face, body turning to the side. 

“Dean!” Sam shouted as he squeezed his eyes closed, teeth clenched and waited for whatever this thing was to wash over him; killing him he was sure of it. 

He suddenly felt arms reach for him, wrapping around his body under his arms, dragging him out of the way just in the nick of time as the sludge washed over the area of floor where he had been laying, angered screams coming from within the goo. 

Sam looked back over his shoulder, certain that he would see his brother there only to gasp in a startled breath to find the doctor looming over him. 

“Shhh, I’m going to make you all better,” the doctor comforted as he lowered a white cloth over Sam’s mouth and nose. 

His wide fearful eyes nearly crossed as he watched the white gauze like cloth lower to his face too frozen in fear to move. The doctor’s firm tight grip in Sam’s hair reinforced his inability to get away even if Sam had the mind to. 

“No,” Sam managed to choke out just before the chloroform soaked rag was pressed to his face. 

Dean stormed out of the kitchen dragging Amber behind him, his hand wrapped tightly around her wrist. 

“What the hell was that scream? And who gave you people permission to move?” Dean snapped angrily at the others as he marched into the lobby. 

“Monica,” Kelley answered timidly, “she - she went back to her room.”

“What part of ‘don’t move’ do you people not understand?” Dean growled; jaw clenching in annoyance. 

“Hey man, we told her dopey ass not to go,” said Jamal with a shrug. 

“Sonuva…” Dean snarled half under his breath. “Where’s Sam?” He barked. 

“He hasn’t come back yet,” Angelo answered.

Dean’s angry gaze snapped to Angelo, “Hasn’t come back yet?” He echoed with a disgusted huff. “And nobody thought to come tell me this shit?”

“Hey, you told us not to move!” Jesse argued. 

Dean sighed heavily, releasing Amber’s wrist as he looked over at her, giving her a dirty look before shaking his head.

“Where were you anyway?” Jamal asked insinuatingly as his gaze darted between Dean and Amber.

Dean pinned Jamal with a deadly look, “ _I_ was trying to not get molested by Miss Tracy Lords wannabe here,” he answered jutting his chin toward Amber as she walked away from him. 

“Yeah, right,” Jesse mumbled under his breath. 

“Hey! I’m taken, dip wad,” Dean shot back. 

“I did no such thing,” Amber argued, “one minute we’re talking and the next he’s pressed against the wall like I tried to kill him or somethin’,” she spat, eyeing Dean. 

“You did do it and believe me, I would’a been killed,” Dean spat with a nod before marching purposefully toward the hall. 

“Hey, where’re you goin’?” Jamal called.

Dean paused at the threshold of the hall and turned his head looking over at Jamal, “M’goin’ to find my brother,” he stated matter-of-factly, brows lifting. “You got a problem with that?”

Angelo and Kelley quickly rose to their feet, “Yeah,” Angelo answered with a nod, “we do,” he said, glancing over at the others before looking back at Dean. “Take us with you,” he shook his head, “no one wants to be left here alone.”

Dean eyed them all for a long moment before blowing out a frustrated breath, pressing his lips together thoughtfully afterward as he hung his head. 

Lifting is head, Dean nodded, “Fine,” he agreed, figuring they’d be a lot easier to keep track of if they were with him than if they were here. “Let’s go.”

Dean slowly made his way down the hall, creeping slowly forward, shotgun at the ready, hunter’s instincts on full alert, his gaze sweeping over the area as he walked. 

The giggling behind him had Dean stopping in his tracks, which lead to Jesse who wasn’t paying attention to bump into him. Dean closed his eyes as he fought to suppress his growing aggravation and anger at the idiots that were following him. Blowing out an exasperated breath, Dean opened his eyes and turned around to face the others, scowling darkly at them all. 

“Do you people think you can make just a little more noise?” He hissed irritably.

Everyone stared back at him innocently, all laughter dying away. 

With a huff of annoyance, Dean turned back around and rolled his shoulders before moving onward. 

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Jesse whispered. 

“His brother, dumbass,” Jamal answered simply and a little too loudly causing Dean to roll his eyes though he didn’t look back at them. 

“Yeah, but how’re we supposed to know where to look?” Jesse asked in confusion. 

“We’ll start with our room, s’where he was goin’,” Dean muttered in answer, still not looking back.

Jamal tilted his head toward Dean as he looked at Jesse, brows raised in a silent message of, ‘there ya go’. 

“You’re not gonna find him,” Abram whined miserably from the back of the line, “the place has him,” he said, shaking his head, “he’s probably dead now, like we all will be soon.”

Dean spun around, jaw clenched in anger, brow furrowed darkly as he glared back at Abram, “If you don’t shut your cake hole I’m gonna shut it for ya,” he growled between gritted teeth. 

“My brother is **not** dead!” he spat angrily, his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as he stared at Abram, muscle twitching in his jaw. 

“Whoa man, calm down,” Jesse soothed, reaching out with one hand, laying it on Dean’s shoulder only to have him shrug Jesse’s hand away before turning back around and nearly stumbling over the weapons duffel left abandoned in the hallway in the process. 

“Sonuva…” Dean growled under his breath as he crouched down beside the duffel and unzipped it, noting that nothing seemed to be missing. 

“What the hell you got in there?” Jamal asked as he looked down into the bag when Dean unzipped it. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean mumbled distractedly, standing to his full height. 

“Sam?” He called out. 

“Hey, I thought we were supposed to be quiet,” Amber grumbled, eyeing Dean as he looked around them for his brother. 

Sam!” He called again, wide concern filled jade eyes searching the area around them for his brother, ignoring Amber’s question, only to see nothing and have silence answer back. 

“Goddammit!” Dean spat before reaching down and snagging hold of the duffel’s strap, lifting it up off the floor and shouldering the strap. 

Sam awoke slowly, his head hurting and spinning. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt like it was swollen and heavy. As he became more aware of his surroundings, Sam realized he was no longer wearing his jacket or over shirt and that his boots had been removed. His vision, as he blinked his eyes open proved to be blurry at best, at least for the first few moments until his surroundings slowly began to finally come into focus. 

That was the moment he started to panic. 

His gaze swept anxiously over the room that looked a lot like an operating room, complete with the bright lights above him, only these flickered a few times, popping and crackling as they gave an electronic hum before righting themselves, the dulled flickering lights brightening and remaining solid.

At one side of the hard table on which he lay were electronic gages and a metal tray of medical utensils, neither of which eased Sam’s anxiety level. He started to move, wanting to scurry off the table on which he was laying only to find movement impossible. His eyes lowered, looking down his body at his bound wrists and lower, the straps holding his ankles. He tugged at the restraints frantically, heart pounding out a fearful rhythm in his chest. 

The ghostly apparitions of a nurse and Dr. Dunham flickered in and out of focus at each side of the table on which he lay, both staring down at him nonplussed by his obvious trepidation. 

Sam’s eyes darted between the two of them, chest rising and falling hard as he panted out fearful breaths, struggling against the straps holding him bound to the table. 

Dr. Dunham slowly leaned over Sam, staring placidly into his face. 

“Easy now… I’m going to make it all better…”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

“Where are we going?” Jesse asked.

“To find Sam,” Dean barked, leading them all down one of the halls that he and Sam had checked earlier in one of the sections of the Inn, no make that asylum, that Abram hadn’t cleaned up. 

“You don’t even know where he is, man,” Jamal argued, “for all we know the white ass mofo’s right an’ he’d dead somewhere.”

Dean swirled around to face Jamal, face set in stubborn angry lines as he glared at the young man, “He is not dead!” Dean snapped. 

His eyes darted past Jamal to the others, “And the next person who says that he is, is gonna get his ass kicked,” he snarled. “Got it?” He barked with a huff before turning back around and storming away.

Jesse and Jamal exchanged looks before looking back at the rest of the group with a sigh. 

Angelo pushed past the rest of them and jogged after Dean, Jesse and Jamal following suit a moment later. 

“Hey, wait up!” Amber and Kelley called out before hurrying after them.

Abram trailed behind them all, his steps slow and resigned, believing they would die at any moment; that they all would, it was only a matter of time. 

“Look man, we’re sorry,” Jesse offered as he and Angelo and Jamal all slowed, their pace matching Dean’s purposeful one. 

“He’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Dean muttered half under his breath, his gaze sweeping the area around them as they walked. He looked inside the door to every one of the rooms that ran along each side of the hall as they made their way forward.

“Sammy!” Dean called out, “Sam!” 

Turning down another passageway, Dean frowned, looking around them as the lights flickered yet again. He pulled a hand away from the rifle, lowering it and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out the EMF detector, flipping it on with a thumb. 

“What’s that?” Jamal asked, eyeing the devise in Dean’s hand. 

Dean looked over at Jamal, lips parting as he thought about his answer before he pressed them together a resigned frown gracing his lips. It wasn’t as though they didn’t know about this shit as it was with what they’d already seen. 

“EMF detector,” he answered on a sigh. 

“Like the Ghostbusters?” Jesse asked. 

Dean rolled his eyes giving a soft scoff, “Yeah, I guess so…” he mumbled returning his attention to surveying the area around them, searching for dangers. 

“Cool,” Jesse exclaimed with a soft excited chuckle, smiling wide as he looked from Dean to Jamal and back. 

“So what, you’re gonna find the ghost and then put a cap in his ass?” Jamal asked, brows rising in disbelief. 

“Eh, somethin’ like that,” Dean muttered with a sigh. “S’not bullets, s’rock salt,” he clarified. 

“Rock salt?” Jamal asked; brow furrowed in confusion. 

Dean gave a nod, “Salt’s a spirit deterrent,” he explained matter-of-factly just before the EMF detector began to beep and whine. 

He paused in mid step, eyes darting, searching for the source of what was setting off the detector. 

“Here,” Dean mumbled, shoving the EMF reader into Jamal’s hand, “hold this,” he said, “and stay with me,” he added before he started to slowly make his way forward; shotgun raised and ready to fire. 

Amber and Kelley hurried closer to the three men, hiding behind Dean, Jamal and Jesse the best they could. Amber’s hands reached for and wrapped around Jesse’s waist, pulling herself up closer to his back causing Jesse to reach a hand down laying it on top of her arms around him as he looked back at her over his shoulder. 

“Hold me,” she whimpered, pouting prettily as she snuggled up close, her chin on his shoulder. 

Jesse smiled and patted her arm before allowing his hand to run along the length her forearm, wrist to elbow and back, in a comforting gesture. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he muttered softly in reassurance, returning his attention forward. 

“Dead,” Abram muttered shaking his head as he tagged along at the rear of the group, slowly following after them. “The ghosts are just toying with us,” he continued miserably as he looked around them. “Toying with us before they kill us…” he mumbled plaintively. 

The EMF detector whined loudly drawing Dean’s attention briefly before the flicker of movement ahead of them had his eyes snapping back forward. The others all screamed in fear just before Dean fired off a shot at the female ghost that flickered and disappeared before them. A second later another apparition materialized slightly closer to the group, this one a male with his arms outstretched toward them. 

Dean fired off another round at the ghost, which disappeared abruptly only to be replaced by yet another that emerged nearer the group. The spirit moved closer with each flicker in and out, his arms outstretched toward them. 

“Sonuva…” Dean growled, quickly reloading the shotgun and firing at the ghost, sighing out a heavy breath as the specter vanished immediately. 

“Heh, now you’re just pissing them off,” Abram whined, “we’re gonna die!” He insisted, a whimpered sob sounding from his throat. “What’s better is we just stop fighting it,” he mumbled brokenly. 

Dean gritted his teeth, “Shut the hell up!” He called over his shoulder before quickly returning his attention forward, preparing for the next ghost he was sure was coming; the EMF meter continuing to beep and whine. 

Abram gave a strained snort as he nodded, “Yeah, no one listen to me…” he mumbled, scoffing softly. 

Black sludge began to ooze from between the bricks of the wall behind them, pooling at the floor and spreading outward, covering the width of the corridor from side to side and climbing up the walls as it slowly slid along the floor toward the group as Dean led them further down the hall. 

“Was that it?” Amber asked, “Was that all of them?”

Dean shook his head, eyes darting, surveying the area for more dangers. 

“No, that thing’s still goin’ off,” he answered, “so somethin’s around here.”

Kelley bit her lip, a small frightened sound tearing from her throat as she moved closer to Jamal, reaching up with one hand to grasp his bicep. 

Jamal glanced back at her before returning his attention to the area before them, eyes darting down every so often to the meter in his hand. 

“I don’t see anything’, man,” he said, glancing over at Dean. “What if this thing ain’t workin’ right?”

Tearing his attention away from searching the area, Dean looked over at Jamal and quirked a brow before his gaze dropped to the EMF detector, “No,” he mumbled, shaking his head before he looked back up at Jamal. 

“Trust me,” he confirmed, “there’s somethin’ more,” he sighed returning his attention in front of them. “We just ain’t seen it yet,” he mumbled. 

Goosebumps pebbled on Abrams arms making the hair stand on the back of his neck stand on end as he walked along behind the others, his eyes darting from side to side warily. 

He froze in his tracks as he caught sight of a dark shadow moving along the wall out of the corner of his eye. Slowly turning around, his eyes widened as he saw the black inky mass creeping along the floor toward him, rising up as it neared; looming over him. 

His mouth fell open, his brain yelling at him to warn the others though his body wasn’t listening, frozen in terror as he watched the inky sludge begin to crash down over him like a tsunami eliciting a blood curdling scream to rip from his throat before it enrobed him, dragging him back and under it’s undulating dark mass. 

Dean and the others whipped around just in time to see Abram become engulfed within the murky oscillating sludge, his scream muffled before it was snuffed out altogether. 

“Sonuva…” Dean growled, his face set in angry determined lines as he fired off a round at the mass which didn’t seem to phase it in the least. A moment later, blood splattered across the room from within the sludge, spraying over the group and coating the walls, rivulets sliding slowly down the bricks and dripping off the other guests faces as they all stared in stunned disbelief. 

The doctor reached above Sam’s head, pulling down an electrode covered band, placing it over the younger Winchester’s forehead, locking it in place with the clamps that screwed down at different points against his forehead and temples. 

Sam’s eyes widened as he shook his head, struggling frantically against the restraints holding him immobile. 

“No,” he muttered, staring up at the doctor’s flickering and solidifying image. “Don’t do this,” he begged softly, “please, don’t do this.” 

Dr. Dunham ignored Sam’s words as he reached with both hands, gripping Sam’s head, holding it immobile while the nurse fastened the younger Winchester into a vise type apparatus that gripped each side of Sam’s head, keeping him from being able to move it any longer. 

Sam’s breaths panted out fearfully through parted lips, chest rising and falling heavily with each one. His eyes darted between the doctor and the nurse standing over him as he struggled, hands clenching and unclenching into fists, legs jerking against the straps. 

“Now, now,” Dr. Dunham soothed as he drew back, “I’m going to make you all better.” 

“Stop,” Sam pleaded, his throat convulsing as he swallowed hard, “m’not crazy, please…” 

Sam’s eyes tracked the nurse’s hands as she reached across him, pulling back a plastic mouth guard, shoving it into his mouth and fastening it into place; effectively silencing his pleas and trapping his tongue so he would not swallow it during the electro shock. 

Rows of straight white teeth bit down into the plastic as he fearfully looked from the nurse over to the doctor, his muffled cries of protest sounding against the guard. 

His eyes widened in alarm as he watched the doctor turn and reach for a large switch against the wall. Sam screamed against the mouth guard in horrified protest, struggling frantically against the straps holding him immobile as he watched Dr. Dunham grip the lever.

The doctor glanced back at Sam as he threw the switch, watching as Sam’s eyes rolled up in his head, his body seizing, back arching drastically, before jerking and bucking wildly. 

The lights flickered and died for a moment before blinking back on just as the black inky sludge crept forward toward the blood splattered group, arching upward, looming over them all. 

“You belong to us,” an eerie deep voice spoke from within the mass, a collage of face outlines appearing within in ink-like substance, each with demonic glowing red eyes. 

“Like hell,” Dean grumbled, aiming the shotgun at the sludge-like mass, firing again and again as he back away slowly. 

“Get behind me,” Dean growled the order, “Move!” 

Amber and Kelley shrieked and quickly ran to do as Dean commanded followed by Jesse, Angelo and Jamal. 

“What the hell is that thing?” shouted Jamal. 

Dean gave a small shake of his head, his perplexed eyes trained on the wispy sludge as he continued to fire the rifle at the mass while backing up further, face set in determined lines. 

_Why the hell wasn’t the rock salt getting rid of this thing?_

It took half a dozen more rounds before the ink-like sludge finally seemed to melt into the floor and disappear. 

Dean turned, jutting his chin ahead of them, “Go! Keep going!” He demanded. 

He hurried after the others, turning to look behind them every so often before turning back around again as they made it further down the corridor; eyes darting, searching for any sign of that _thing_ that had killed Abram right before their very eyes. 

The lights flickered again and again as though they were short circuited while the group continued to run down the hall, past more rooms that they didn’t even bother to look into, not stopping until they reached the end where the corridor forked to the left and right. 

“Right, right,” Dean directed, “go right!” 

Dean tuned back around as the group followed his order, running down the right hand corridor. His gazed darted about the area, searching for any sign of trouble as he walked backward before turning and chasing after the others. 

Loud electrical buzzing and snapping from one of the rooms to their left drew Dean’s attention as he drew near the others. His steps faltered as he looked over, lips parting in shock at what he could see through the cracked open door, eyes widening fearfully. 

“Sammy,” Dean breathed his brother’s name, staring transfixed at the sight of his brother’s body wildly bucking and thrashing upon what appeared to be some kind of medical table. 

_Sonuva_ **bitch**!

The inky substance crept down from the ceiling, pooling before the group and arching upward, looming over them, eliciting fearful screams from them all. 

Dean’s focus was totally on Sam in the room to the left, his steps purposeful as he moved closer, lifting the butt end of the rifle to knock open the door before leveling it and pointing it about the room warily. 

He fired off a round at the flickering image of the doctor causing him to vanish. He then turned the gun toward the nurse preparing to fire though she disappeared before he could get pull the trigger.

“Sammy!” Dean called to his brother as he rushed into the room, eyes wide with horror, seeing his brother’s flailing form bound to the table. 

“Dean, we need you out there,” Jamal said as he rushed into the room, his gaze moving from Dean as the elder Winchester searched for a way to shut the electricity off, mindless of the snapping and crackling exposed wires that danced freely around him, to Sam’s bound form being electrocuted on the table. 

“Oh shit, man,” Jamal muttered, shaking his head slowly. 

“Don’t!” Dean snapped as his head snapped to the side, his stubborn and determined gaze narrowing on Jamal. He shook his head, glancing at Sam before looking back at Jamal, “Don’t you fuckin’ say it,” he warned. 

Jamal’s attention snapped from Sam over to Dean as he exhaled heavily. 

“Dude, we need you out here,” he repeated, lifting a hand and pointing a thumb back the way he had come, toward the hall. 

“Can you shoot?” Dean asked. 

“Hey, what’s keeping’…oh my God,” Angelo interrupted as he rushed into the room, his attention landing on Sam, causing his question to die on his tongue. 

“I grew up in the hood, bro,” Jamal answered with a smile and a nod, “course I can shoot.”

Dean gave a nod and tossed Jamal the rifle, “Take care of the others, I gotta get my brother outta here,” he instructed. 

Jamal gave a nod and turned, hurrying out of the room. 

Dean’s attention went to Angelo, his brows furrowing at the idiot who was standing there staring at Sam with his mouth hanging open. 

“Find the goddamn switch!” Dean yelled, snapping Angelo out of his stupor. 

Angelo tore his gaze from Sam, looking up at Dean and nodded before hurrying over to the opposite wall, searching frantically for some way to turn off the electricity. 

******

Jamal rushed out into the hall to find Amber, Kelley and Jesse plastered against one wall, the ink-like black mass creeping it’s way closer toward them as the body of it seemed to lift up from the floor, arching upward and looming over them. 

He raised the rifle and aimed, firing off a round at the sludge-like smokey substance though nothing happened. Cocking the rifle again he fired and repeated the process until the mass seemed to turn toward him slightly, just enough for the others to make a break for it. Kelley and Jesse took the opportunity and slid along the wall toward Jamal, then made a break for it, running over to where he stood loading the gun and aiming once more. 

Amber however seemed frozen in place, staring at the mass with wide terrified eyes, not moving a muscle. 

“Amber, come on!” Jesse yelled.

The dark sludge seemed to return its focus to her then, faces forming and morphing within the inky smoke-like sludge. 

“Amber, we want you…” Abram’s voice eerily sounded from within the goo, though it was deeper, darker than before. 

A tendril of the mass seemed to reach out like an arm, wrapping around one of Amber’s before tugging her roughly into its murky depths. 

Amber only managed to get out a choked horrified scream before she was silenced forever. 

Jamal, Kelley and Jesse’s eyes all widened in alarm before they all quickly turned and fled the area, rushing into the room that Dean had disappeared into. 

******

It took a helluva lot longer than Dean would have liked as he and Angelo searched for the damn switch to shut off the volts going into Sam‘s body, but finally, after he’d begun throwing lever after lever in an attempt to just try something, anything to get it to stop, Dean managed to locate the correct one and get the electricity turned off. 

Sam’s body jerked one final time as the electricity was turned off before stilling completely. 

Turning around, Dean rushed over to his brother’s side, leaning over Sam he reached for the fastenings of the mouth guard and began loosening them. 

“S’okay, Sammy, m’here,” Dean muttered softly, his gaze intent on Sam’s face. He gasped in a breath, eyes widening marginally at the sight of Sam’s blood oozing out of his brother’s mouth and down the side of his face as the guard was pulled away. 

“Sammy, oh God, baby,” Dean murmured, cupping the side of his brother’s face in one hand. 

“Dean?” Angelo said tentatively as he stepped up to the table on which Sam lay. 

Dean’s eyes searched his brother’s face a moment before he tore his attention away, jaw clenching as he bowed his head. 

“Help me get this damn thing off his head,” Dean ground out softly before lifting his head, his gaze returning to Sam’s face. 

He pulled his hand away from Sam’s cheek and reached for one side of the band that held Sam’s head immobile as Angelo reached for the opposite side; the two of them worked together, unfastening the screws that held it firmly against Sam’s temples and forehead. 

“Dean, that thing got Am ---” Jamal started only to have his sentence trail off as his gaze fell on Sam’s form and the blood streaking the younger Winchester’s face. 

“Dude, is he…” Jamal asked, not finishing his question as his eyes sought and found Angelo’s as Sam’s friend turned his head and looked over at him. 

Angelo shook his head gravely, before returning his attention to unfastening the last of the screws on his side of the strap. 

“I don’t…” Dean started only to pause and clench his teeth, muscle twitching in his jaw. “No,” he answered quietly, giving his head a small shake, “he can’t be.”

Kelley and Jesse came to a halt behind Jamal both of them peering around the taller kid to see what it was that was going on, their gazes falling on Sam.

“Let me through,” Kelley muttered as she pushed past Jesse and Jamal, stepping over to the side of the table as Angelo stepped back once the band was unfastened. 

“Dean, let me look at him,” Kelley offered as she looked across the table at Dean who was busying himself, unfastening the strap holding his brother’s wrist to the table. “I’m pre-med, maybe I can help,” she explained. 

Lifting his eyes once Sam’s wrist was free, Dean looked back up at his brother’s face, leaning over him. He reached up, brushing Sam’s long bangs back off his forehead, thumb slowly sweeping across the younger Winchester’s brow. 

“C’mon, Sammy,” he whispered softly, dipping his head and pressing his lips briefly to his brother’s pliant, blood smeared ones in a chaste kiss. 

“Don’t leave me,” Dean murmured against Sam’s lips before lifting his head and looking across the table at Kelley, giving her a barely there nod. 

Kelley’s eyes widened slightly as she watched Dean kiss Sam, unable to believe what she was seeing. He was kissing his _brother_ like that? No, it couldn’t be, something seemed ‘off’ here. 

“He’s not your brother, is he?” She asked softly. “He’s your boyfriend.” 

It wasn’t a question. 

Dean nodded his gaze riveted on Sam’s face as he slid a hand down the length of his brother’s arm to the hand he had freed, lacing their fingers together. 

She wanted to be angry, would be angry, probably _should_ be angry. Dean had all but led her on, made her think he was available. After all, he had flirted back, hadn’t he? But then, maybe not, maybe she had only believed what she had wanted to believe, seen what she had wanted to see. Either way, she couldn’t seem to bring herself to be upset now, even with how embarrassed she was over having acted like a fool. She was unable to feel any ill will toward Dean with the pained way he was gazing down at his boyfriend. 

Reaching out with one hand she pressed two fingers against the pulse point at Sam’s throat, smiling softly when she felt a steady beat beneath her fingers. 

Lifting her opposite hand she felt for breaths to be sure he was breathing, her head bowing and turning to one side to feel for breath on her cheek. Raising her head she smiled wide over at Dean, nodding. 

“He’s alive,” she informed him, “heartbeat is steady and he’s breathing.” 

Dean released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding before his lips quirked upward at the corners returning Kelley’s smile. 

Tearing her attention from Dean, Kelley continued to check Sam over as Dean managed to pull himself together enough to move down to his brother’s ankle, unbuckling the strap.

Glancing over at the others, Dean jutted his chin toward Sam’s opposite ankle, “One’a you two unfasten that,” he ordered before looking over at Angelo, “Get his wrist,” he directed. 

Once Sam was free, Dean returned his attention to Kelley who glanced up at him and took a step back from the bed as she gave a nod. 

“I think he’ll be okay,” she answered his unspoken question. 

Dean glanced down at his brother before looking back up at her, “Thank,” he nodded, throat convulsing as he swallowed and cleared his throat, “thank you,” he muttered softly. 

Kelley smiled softly at him, “You’re welcome.”

Tearing his gaze away, Dean looked over at Jamal, Angelo and Jesse. 

“Help me get him back to our room,” he ordered before lowering his eyes and sliding an arm under Sam’s shoulders, lifting his upper body up into his arms. 

Kelley had managed to locate Sam’s shirt and jacket and tucked those under her arm as the others worked with getting Sam picked up off the table. Rifle held out before him, Jamal lead the group out of the room and down the hall the way they had come while Dean and Jesse carried Sam’s limp body between them. Kelley and Angelo brought up the rear, keeping an eye out behind them for anything that might try to sneak up on the group. It was slow going since Sam wasn’t exactly the easiest or lightest burden in the world to be carrying the way that they were along with their having to keep an eye out for dangers along the way. 

Finally, they made it back to Dean and Sam’s room and Kelley hurried inside, tossing Sam’s shirt and jacket aside as she made her way over to one of the beds, pulling back the covers as Jesse and Dean carried Sam over to the bed and carefully laid him down upon the mattress. Once Sam seemed to be lying comfortably, Kelley stepped back up and covered him with the blankets before moving back along with the others. 

Dean sat down on the side of the bed next to Sam, reaching for and taking his brother’s hand, lacing their fingers together and holding it within one of his own. He reached up with his other hand, cupping the side of his brother’s face, his gaze falling on the dried blood stains leading from Sam’s lips across one cheek and down the side of his face to his neck. 

Pulling his hand away from Sam’s face, Dean reached for the hem of his tee and leaned forward, stretching the cotton shirt upward along his body, pulling it toward Sam’s face. He rubbed at the blood staining his brother’s skin in earnest trying to clean off the crimson marks but all he seemed to be managing to do was scrub the tender flesh raw. 

Kelley turned, hurrying into the small adjoining bathroom where she grabbed a soft wash cloth and turned on the faucet. Once the water was warm she wet the cloth and rung it out before reaching up with one hand, turning off the water. Returning to the bedside she handed Dean the cloth. 

“Here, this’ll work better,” she offered. 

Dean paused in scrubbing his brother’s face with his tee and looked over at her, his eyes dropping to the rag in her hand before he released his shirt and reached for it. 

“Thanks…” he mumbled; the word nearly unintelligible and whisper soft. 

Returning his attention to his brother, Dean wiped at Sam’s face, cleaning off the blood. He tossed the wash cloth over onto the night stand and dipped his head, pressing his lips softly to Sam’s. 

“S’okay,” he murmured against his brother’s lips, “you’re safe,” he said before pulling his head back marginally, tongue darting out to lick his own lips as his eyes searched Sam’s face. 

“I’ll be back,” he muttered before he began standing to his feet. “I won’t be long,” he added, his attention still on his unconscious brother’s features. 

Tearing his gaze away from Sam, Dean looked at the others, “Angelo, stay here with Sam and take care of him, watch him. Jamal, I want you by the door with the shotgun,” he instructed. 

“The rest of you, stay put somewhere safe,” he demanded as he headed for the door. 

“Where are you going?” Kelley asked.

Dean looked back over his shoulder at her before his gaze swung to his brother then back to her face again.

“M’gonna kill the sonuvabitch,” Dean growled softly, hands clenching into fists at his sides. 

Kelley’s eyes widened as she stared at Dean, glancing over at Sam before returning her attention to Dean as he walked to and out the door.

Rushing out behind him, she caught up to him just outside the door, crouched beside the duffel gathering supplies. 

“You can’t go alone,” she informed him. 

Dean turned his head, looking up at her and quirked a brow. 

“Huh,” he mused, “s’funny, cause that’s exactly what m’ doin’,” he declared. 

“Jamal,” Dean called.

Jamal poked his head out of the room, “Yeah, bro?”

“Here,” Dean muttered, tossing Jamal a box of rock salt. 

Catching the box, Jamal raised his brows at Dean questioningly. 

“Make a circle and have the others get in it and tell ‘em to stay there ‘till I get back, no one leaves the circle,” Dean directed. 

Jamal gave a nod, “You got it, man,” he replied before disappearing back inside the room. 

“Dean!” Kelley snapped, regaining his attention. 

She huffed, “I’m going with you,” she announced with a nod. 

“No, you’re stayin’ here and getting’ in that goddamn circle.”

“No I’m not, you - you need me,” Kelley argued. 

Dean scoffed, eyeing her in annoyance. 

“You can glare at me all you want, I’m right and you know it,” she insisted. 

“Fine,” Dean snapped, “but you do what I say, when I say it and no arguing.”

Kelley nodded, hands trembling so badly she clasped them in front of herself in hopes that Dean wouldn’t notice. 

He sighed heavily, pulling up to his full height as he continued to eye her in irritation. 

“Let’s go,” he mumbled, handing her a pistol loaded with rock salt. 

Dean and Kelley made their way back down the maze of corridors, keeping an eye out for any sign of the ghostly patients or the black mass that had taken the lives of Amber and Abram all while trying to locate the doctor and a means to send his ass into the hereafter. 

There had to be something that was keeping the doctor here, his bones, something that was linked to him; a personal effect of some kind. 

Dean was determined to find whatever it was and end that sonuvabitch once and for all. 

If the deaths of the others weren’t enough of a reason, the bastard nearly crispy frying Sam was enough all on it’s own for Dean to want the doctor’s head on a stick. He was still having trouble getting rid of the image of Sam’s body laying there on the medical table floundering and thrashing about as he was electrocuted; not to mention the blood oozing out from between his brother’s lips once the mouth guard had been removed. 

Turning down a darkened hallway, one they hadn’t been down before, Dean glanced back at Kelley. Their gazes met briefly, a silent demand within the depths of his own that she stay close before Dean returned his attention forward.

Kelley’s throat convulsed, swallowing hard and inched closer to Dean as they crept down the hall, her hand tightening on the iron pipe in her hands. She frowned in confusion as they made their way further down the corridor. 

“Do you hear that?” She whispered, brow knitting as she looked up at Dean’s profile. 

Dean’s gaze swept over the area, hunter’s instincts on full alert as he listened to the creaking and groaning sounds that one usually associates to the settling of wood; the sound akin to that of boats creaking in a harbor. 

“…the hell?” Dean muttered half under his breath. 

A flicker of movement a head of them drew Dean’s attention away from the strange sounds as he promptly raised the rifle in his hand, aiming it at the ghost as it faded in and out of focus before them. 

Another movement to their left caught his eye just before he pulled the trigger, firing at the first ghost. Quickly reloading, Dean aimed at the second ghost and fired off another round. 

Kelley reached for Dean, one small hand grasping hold of his jacket, balling the material in her fisted hand anxiously, her eyes wide eyes darting from one ghost to the next as Dean continued to fire over and over at each ghost as they continued to appear, each one closer to them than the last. 

“Dean,” Kelley mumbled tentatively, pulling her hand gripping his jacket closer to her chest for comfort. 

Dean glanced back at her briefly, his face set in grim determined lines. He reached into his jacket with one hand and pulled out a carton of salt, shoving it toward her blindly as he returned his attention to the ghosts flickering in and out of focus around them.

“Make a circle with it and get inside,” Dean directed before firing off another round. 

Kelley slowly released Dean’s jacket, preparing to do as he commanded only pause, her eyes wide, a frightened scream tearing from her lips as one of the ghosts appeared directly before her. Without thought, she swung the iron rod at the ghost, slicing through the shadowy form; the ghost immediately disappearing in a wisp of smoke. 

Dean’s attention snapped to Kelley as she screamed only to still as she struck the ghost with the rod, a pleased smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. 

“Not bad,” he muttered gently before returning his attention before them though it suddenly seemed as though the ghosts had stopped appearing, at least for now. 

“Dean!” Kelley shouted, her hand reaching for and fisting in his jacket, tugging frantically at the fabric in an attempt to gain his attention. 

Turning toward her, Dean looked down into her terrified features before following her gaze outward behind them to the inky black sludge as it crept along the floor toward them. 

“Sonuvabitch!” Dean growled, reaching for Kelley’s hand, gripping it tightly. 

“Move!” Dean shouted, pulling Kelley along behind him as he turned and took off down the hall away from the fog-like goo. 

The box of salt slipped from Kelley’s grasp, falling onto the floor as she was pulled along behind Dean, the two of them running as quickly as they could down the corridor and away from the evil that seemed to be chasing after them.

The wood floor beneath them creaked and gave a loud groan a moment before the boards busted and the two of them plunged down through the hole; falling the entire three floors into the basement below.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

They were each submerged in water as soon as they reached the basement level, the area having flooded sometime ago. Dean’s back briefly touched the cement floor in the fall, the water cushioning the blow. Upon impact, he rifle slipped from his grasp onto the cement floor, skittering a few yards away out of his reach. 

Half swimming, half pushing himself upward onto his feet, Dean gasped in a breath as his head broke the surface of the water. 

“Kelley?” He called out as he turned his head to the left and right searching for her. 

Kelley’s head broke the surface of the water a few feet away from him a moment later with an audible gasp. 

“Dean?” She called out anxiously as she frantically searched for him. 

“Stay there, don’t move,” Dean instructed before he started moving through the chest deep water toward her.

Kelley sighed with relief as she heard Dean’s voice and caught sight of him a few feet away, waiting for him to reach her. 

“Are you alright?” Dean asked as he drew near. Stopping in front of her, he reached out cupping her cheek in one palm. He hooked the side of his hand under her chin, forcing her to tilt her head up so he could get a better look at her in the near darkness of the basement. 

“Yeah,” Kelley muttered, giving a small nod, “yeah, I’m okay,” she answered, her bottom lip trembling with cold. 

Releasing her chin with a concerned from, Dean allowed his hand fall to away from her face before he turned slightly, eyes darting, searching the area around them. 

Wooden boards sat askew, half fallen in around the room, some blocking pathways in one direction or another while others simply hung, dangling into the water from the wooden ceiling above them. Each twist and turn of a passageway seemed as dismal and unending as the next. 

Turning his attention back to Kelley Dean nodded, “Okay, let’s go,” he muttered before staring to make his way forward trudging through the icy cold waters. 

“Oh great, the Inn is sinking and we didn’t even know it,” Kelley mumbled as she struggled to follow after him. 

Glancing back over his shoulder, Dean frowned in confusion, “Huh?”

Kelley shook her head, “Nothing,” she answered softly with a small shake of her head, “Just if I had known I was playing Rose I might have dressed for it.”

Dean paused in his steps, looking back at her. 

“What? Who’s Rose?” He asked, brow knitting as he quirked one eyebrow. 

Kelley stared at him a moment, teeth chattering with cold, “Titanic,” she offered.

Shaking his head, Dean shrugged off his wet jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders.

“It’s wet but it’s better than nothing,” he commented before turning back and starting forward again. “And I never saw Titanic.”

“You never saw Titanic?” Kelley asked incredulously. “What planet are you from?”

Dean shrugged a shoulder, “I don’t do chick flicks,” he answered simply. 

Kelley looked up at the back of Dean’s head and shook her own before her brow furrowed as she frowned in confusion. 

“If you’ve never seen it, how do you know it’s a chick-flick?” She asked. 

Dean huffed out a sigh, slowly turning around in the water to look at her, one brow quirked. 

“You’ve seen it, right?” He countered, lifting his brows. 

Kelley nodded, “Well, yeah…”

Dean gave a nod, “I rest my case,” he muttered turning back around with an irritated shake of his head. 

Kelley scoffed, frowning at his back as she followed after Dean, trudging through the chest deep water down one of the long corridors. 

Slowly tearing her gaze off Dean, Kelley looked to the side and frowned curiously at what appeared to be another pathway. 

“What’s in here?” Kelley asked as she started over toward the opening.

Dean turned his head in time to see her wading through the water off the path he was set on them taking.

“No, that’s not the way,” He called after her.

“Yeah, because you have a map,” she retorted flippantly over her shoulder as she continued forward. 

“Sonvua…” Dean growled under his breath before changing direction, going after her. 

“Kelley!” He snapped just before she let out a blood curdling scream. 

Dean’s eyes widened, darting about as he searched for the danger that had made her scream only to lower his eyes and find a litter of rats swimming by. 

Before he had time to react Kelley’s flailing arm shot out as she tripped over her own feet in the deep water, grabbing onto his over shirt; tugging him forward as she fell backward through the opening to the side off the path that he had thought might get them the hell outta there. 

Stumbling forward, propelled by the momentum of Kelley’s fall, Dean lurched forward, nearly falling on top of her in the water, his arms wrapping around her as they both fell into what was actually no more than a large room off to the side of the corridor. 

Dean grunted as the side of his face connected with the wall as he held onto Kelley, keeping her from being crushed by his weight and drowned in the process. 

She struggled under him, legs kicking as she shoved at him. 

Dean released her once he got his footing, taking a step back from her as she pitched forward, knocking the door of the room closed before using it to pull herself up, soaking wet to her feet. 

“Way ta go, Einstein, ya just cut off our only way outta here,” Dean spat. 

“No, I didn’t!” She screetched before yanking at the door handle. “Dammit!”

Dean nodded, giving an exasperated sigh, “Yeah,” he muttered, “ya did.” 

Kelley turned around to face him, tears blurring her vision, a lone tear sliding down one cheek. 

“Go ahead and yell at me about the rats too!” She spat, her features crumbling. 

Dean shook his head, “I wasn’t gonna say anything’ about that,” he informed her simply. 

Kelley reached up with one trembling hand to wipe at her tears. 

“No?” She asked tentatively. 

Dean shook his head, “Hell no, those things carry rabies and lice,” he nodded, “the plague.” 

Kelley’s brow knitted in confusion. 

“What?”

“Don’t you ever watch the Discovery channel?” He asked her, brow furrowed in a frown. Never mind that the only reason _he_ had was due to Sam wanting to watch it. 

“Get yer head outta all those lovey dovey bullshit movies and you’d be suprised,” Dean said, lifting his brows, “there’s a whole world out there,” he informed her pointedly.

 _‘A whole damn scary world,’_ he thought but would never say it. No one should have to know the shit he did. 

Kelley scowled at him, “I know that,” she murmured, sniffling softly before returning her attention to the door, hand on the knob pulling at it, trying to get it to open. 

“Uh, ya might as well give up on that,” Dean commented, “the water pressure isn’t gonna let it open,” he said with a sigh before tearing his attention away from her to look around them. At least the water wasn’t quite as high here, about belly button height instead of up to their chests. 

Turning he reached for one of the cabinets that sat higher than the water and started going through the drawers. 

“What are you doing?” Kelley asked as she turned away from the door and moved closer. 

“Trying to see if there’s anything here we can use,” Dean muttered distractedly. 

“To get the door open?” she asked incredulously. 

Dean sighed heavily, rolling his eyes as he lifted his head before looking back at her. 

“No, against the ghosts,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

Opening one of the last drawers, Dean paused, pulling out an old ledger book, a frown marring his features as he looked down at it. 

Kelley frowned stepping up to him, “What is it?”

“Looks like a diary of some kind,” Dean mumbled before closing the book and lifting his head, searching the room. 

“I need to get this back to Sam so we can look at it together, see if we can figure it out,” he muttered half under his breath. 

“How are we gonna get out?” Kelley asked, glancing back at the door before returning her attention to Dean, “You just said that the door wasn’t gonna open.”

Spotting an air vent on the opposite wall, Dean’s eyes widened marginally, “It isn’t, but this will,” he mumbled, crossing the room over to the air shaft. 

“Inside my jacket, hand me the small black case in the inside pocket,” Dean muttered as he held out a hand, waiting. 

Kelley reached into the pocket and pulled out the case in question, handing it to Dean.

Her eyes met his as he glanced over at her when she placed the case in his hand. 

“What are you doing?”

Dean sighed as he returned his gaze to the air shaft, “Well, m’gonna get this open and this is how we’re gonna get outta here.”

“Through there?” Kelley asked incredulously. 

Dean gave a small nod, tilting his head to the side slightly, “I’m no more thrilled by the idea than you are, believe me, but,” he nodded, “yeah.” 

Jesse paced back out to where Jamal stood leaning back against the wall just outside the door, rifle held before him in both hands. 

“Dude, this is stupid, we should have gone with Dean and let Kelley stay here and babysit,” he spat disgustedly. 

Jamal’s head rolled against the wall as he looked over at Jesse, “Hey, the man said we wait here,” he said with a nod, “so we wait here,” he confirmed before frowning in annoyance, “And why the hell you outta da circle?” 

Jesse scoffed irritably, “Screw the damn circle!”

******

Angelo sighed heavily as he pulled to his feet from where he had been sitting on the floor near the bed. Stepping over to the edge he peered down at Sam’s unconscious form. 

“We really need you to wake up, man,” he mumbled softly, glancing back over his shoulder at Jesse and Jamal before returning his attention to Sam. “I think those two are gonna kill each other.” 

Behind Angelo the same ghost who had touched Amber before and caused her to make a pass at Dean reached out with both hands, placing them at each side of Angelo’s head as her form flickered in and out of focus only to flicker out completely as Angelo glanced back over his shoulder again. His dark eyes searched the room before landing once more on Jesse and Jamal, watching them for a moment. Returning his attention to Sam, tongue darting out to lick his lips, Angelo stepped closer to the bed and slowly lowered himself down, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress, his gaze fixed hungrily on Sam’s lips. 

“You doin’ okay back there?” Dean asked, craning his neck to look back over his shoulder at Kelley as best as he could in the small confined space; the vent shaft being so small that they both had to belly crawl through it. 

“Yeah,” Kelley sighed before frowning, “I’d be a lot better though if I didn’t have your ass in my face,” she spat sarcastically. 

Dean scowled, “Hey! Women love my ass,” he countered. 

Kelley gave an unladylike snort, “Uh-huh,” she muttered, “I’ll bet.”

Dean stopped crawling forward, causing Kelley to nearly crawl up his back and likely would have had there been room. 

“Hey!” She exclaimed, frowning at him. 

“What makes you think women don’t love my ass?” Dean asked her as he looked over his shoulder, quirking a brow. 

“Well, gee, lemme think,” She began sarcastically, “maybe because you’re GAY!” She yelled the last word exasperatedly. 

Dean huffed returning his attention forward and began crawling once more. 

“I’m not _gay_ ,” he corrected, “Sam and I,” he sighed, “well, it’s just different,” he explained. “And besides, I offered to let you go first.” 

Kelley huffed, “And be the first one to come across more rats or God knows what? No thank you,” she muttered, “I’ll take looking at your ass up close and personal to that.” 

Dean clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing slightly in annoyance as he continued to crawl, “Gee, I feel special,” he mumbled. 

“Is that a light up ahead?” Kelley asked as she tried to peer past Dean. 

“No, it’s my sparkling personality,” Dean quipped before focusing on the light that was shining in just ahead of them.

“I doubt that,” Kelley mumbled under her breath, lips curved down in a frown. 

Continuing further through the vent shaft they slowly made their way toward the source of light, finally reaching the end of the air shaft and the fancy scrolled wrought-iron gate that blocked it off. By the look of it, they’d managed to make their way back to the corridor leading to the guest rooms; the lights Abram had gotten turned on were the light they had seen shining into the ventilator shaft. Lifting a hand, Dean curled his fingers through the scrollwork and tugged. 

“Sonuvabitch!” He growled when it didn’t move, only rattled slightly on against the screws holding it in place. 

He turned his head looking back at Kelley, who was now wearing his jacket. 

“Can you get me out that case again?” He asked, reaching back with his free hand. 

Kelley tried to roll slightly to one side, reaching down into the inside pocket for the lock pick case, slowly working it out of the pocket. She handed it up to Dean once she’s managed to work it out of the jacket. 

Pulling the case up, Dean unzipped it and grabbed out an L-wrench and started to work at unscrewing the screws. It was slow going with having to reach outside the vent cover, his hand pressed against and being scratched up by the iron scrollwork but finally he managed to get all of the screws unfastened. Returning the L-wrench to the case, Dean zipped it up and reached with both hands, pushing hard against the grating until the metal covering broke away, falling to the floor. 

He quickly grabbed the case and slid his body out of the vent shaft, falling ungracefully onto the floor outside in one of the hallways. Pulling himself up off the floor, Dean stood to his feet and turned his attention to Kelley. He reached up for her with both hands, helping her out of the shaft, pulling her body out. Her body slid down Dean’s as he held onto her until her feet touched the floor. 

“You alright?” he asked as he watched her hang her head shyly. 

She nodded, “Uh, yeah,” she muttered softly, glancing up at him before dropping her gaze once more. 

“Here,” he handed her the case, “put that back in my pocket for me?” 

Kelley nodded and took the case from his hands grateful for the menial task, at least it got her mind off the way Dean’s hard body had felt against her own. What the hell was she thinking? He had a boyfriend for crying out loud!

Dean reached for her hand as soon as she had the case stashed away, “C’mon,” he muttered, jerking his head to the side, “mine and Sam’s room is just down this way,” he explained. 

Angelo’s hands slowly moved from where they’d been resting on his thighs, reaching for Sam’s sides, sliding upward, pushing the soft cotton of the Winchester’s tee upward revealing the smooth toned and muscled skin beneath.

Hands at Sam’s chest, Angelo’s thumbs hooked under the tee, moving slowly, circling around and brushing over the Winchester’s nipples. His eyes intent on Sam’s face, watching as his lips parted, breaths hitching, back arching slightly into the touch. 

Sam moaned softly, “Dean,” he breathed his brother’s name, tongue darting out to lick his lips before his head rolled to the side. 

The sheet and thin blanket at Sam’s hips slowly began to move, a corner of each coiling around the Winchester’s wrists. 

Angelo’s hands moved, brushing over the bared flesh of Sam’s chest, index finger and thumb grasping, rolling the Winchester’s nipples slowly. 

The corner of the fitted sheet came loose from the mattress, gliding across the bed, wrapping around Sam’s throat just before Angelo dipped his head, teeth nipping at Sam’s bottom lip gently. 

Sam sighed, lips parting, his fingers curling into the bedding as a low moan tore from his throat. 

“Mmmmmmm, Dean… yeah…” Sam mumbled thickly. 

Angelo slanted his mouth over Sam’s kissing him hard, tongue pushing roughly past his lips and into his mouth. 

Sam’s eyes snapped open just as the sheet and blanket pulled his arms out wide, the fitted sheet tightening around his throat, choking him. 

He cried out against Angelo’s lips, legs kicking as he struggled for freedom, his arms being pulled even more tautly, the sheet around his neck coiling tighter, cutting off his airway. 

******

Dean walked past Jamal who followed him and Kelley into the bedroom, only to stop dead in his tracks at the scene before him. 

“Sonuva…” Dean growled as he stormed over to Angelo, grabbing him roughly by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from his brother and to his feet. Teeth tightly clenched in rage, Dean pulled back a fist and let it fly, punching Angelo with all his might. He followed after Angelo as the young man staggered backward with the force of the blow, his head having snapped to the side, blood oozing from his nose. 

Dean marched after the sonuvabitch who he’d found molesting his brother, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, before he pulled back his fisted hand again, punching Angelo, his face twisted in fury. 

The bed linens continued to pull painfully at Sam’s arms, eliciting a choked cry of pain to tumble from his lips, face twisted with pain and the inability to breathe. 

“Dean!” Kelley called; her eyes wide as she stared at Sam. 

Jamal rushed toward the bed, intent to help Sam, to get the sheet from around his neck only to be tossed across the room, his back connecting hard with one wall. 

Dean straddled Angelo’s fallen form as the kid toppled to the ground. He continued to punch Angelo in the face over and over again with all his might, his own face twisted in a sneer of blind rage.

Sam’s lips moved, trying to call out to his brother though only a hoarse whisper tore from his lips, “Dean…”

Sam gagging sounds mixed and mingled with the sound of flesh striking flesh in the room. 

“Oh my God, do something!” Kelley exclaimed, looking over at Jesse who stood frozen in terror staring at Sam. 

Jesse swallowed hard, “Me? _You_ do something!” He spat back. 

“Get down!” Jamal shouted, aiming the rifle at the bed. 

Kelley’s eyes widened as she looked from Sam to Jamal and back shaking her head. 

“Jamal, no!”

Jamal fired a round toward Sam, aiming just above the headboard. 

Kelley screamed and Dean turned his attention from Angelo to Jamal before looking back over his shoulder toward Sam. 

“Sammy!” Dean shouted. 

“Holy…” Jesse muttered. 

Sam gasped in an audible breath as the sheet around his throat loosened no longer choking him. The blanket and sheet at his wrists pulled tighter than before nearly enough to pull his arms out of their sockets. 

Sam groaned, head pressing back against the pillows as he grit his teeth, “Ah, God…” he grunted. 

Dean pulled up off Angelo’s unconscious form and turned to face his brother as he stood to his feet. 

“Jamal, aim over there, near the window,” Dean demanded before he turned and ran from the room, crouching at their duffel out in the hall. 

Jamal aimed and fired the round, the rock salt ricocheting off the metal slab and bouncing across the room, lodging in deep in the brick wall. 

“Holy…” Jamal muttered; eyes wide. 

Sam’s wrist was immediately freed as soon as the salt rock round was fired. He rolled quickly onto his side, scooting over on the mattress toward the direction his opposite arm was being pulled in. 

Dean rushed back into the room, iron rod held in his hands as he hurried over toward the bedside, swinging the iron just before he was tossed, back colliding with the wall before he fell to the floor near Jamal though Sam’s wrist was released with the swipe of iron through the air. 

Sam scrambled back, sitting up in the bed, his back pressed against the headboard, eyes wide, lips parted as he panted fearful breaths. 

“Welcome back to the party,” Jamal muttered sarcastically as he looked over at Sam before allowing his head to fall back against the wall behind him with a sigh of relief. 

They’d bound Angelo and stuck him on one corner of the room per Dean’s command, with Jamal keeping an eye on him, rifle in hand as he sat nearby. Kelley and Jesse sat on the floor within the salt circle that Jamal had drawn trying to calm down from everything that had happened; regroup a little. 

Dean sat on the side of the bed next to Sam as they looked through the journal Dean had smuggled out of the office he and Kelley had been stuck in. 

Sam slowly tore his gaze away from the pages of the book and looked up at his brother. 

“You know, you never told me what happened,” Sam commented, glancing at Kelley who still wore Dean’s jacket. 

Dean raised his eyes to Sam’s face, his head turning to look over at Kelley before his attention returned to his brother. 

He shook his head, “Nothin’ to tell,” he answered simply. 

“She went with me to try and track down that doctor so I could get rid of his ass once and for all after he,” Dean clamped his mouth closed, his eyes roaming over his brother before meeting Sam’s gaze again. 

“And we got stuck in the basement, which by the way, is flooded,” he explained with a sigh, giving a shrug, “It’s how she ended up wearing my jacket,” he continued, “end of story,” he finished pointedly. 

“Nothing happened.” Dean reiterated. 

Sam pressed his lips together, nodding. 

Dean slowly looked back down at the journal, “Think you saw more action than I did,” he commented. 

Sam had started to lower his own eyes only to have them snap back up at his brother’s words. 

“You can’t tell me that you blame me for that,” Sam said incredulously. 

Dean shrugged a shoulder, “Didn’t say that, I was just makin’ an observation.”

Sam scoffed, “Yeah well, observe something else.”

Dean huffed and licked his lips, trying to concentrate on the handwritten words in the journal. 

“It’s probably just as good that you didn’t kill the doctor,” Sam muttered. 

Dean glanced up at him and quirked a brow. 

“Why’s that?” He asked. 

Sam shook his head, “Because I really don’t think he was trying to hurt me,” Sam explained. 

Dean’s eyes widened marginally before his jaw clenched, muscle twitching. 

“Oh yeah, sure Sam, trying to crispy fry a person is a great way to say, ‘lets be friends’,” Dean spat sarcastically. 

Sam sighed, shaking his head as he looked back down at the book, “I didn’t say it wasn’t crazy, I just said he didn’t mean to hurt me,” he corrected. “And look at this passage here,” Sam said, pointing to an entry in the journal. 

**_Been noticing bruises and cuts on patients more often lately. Pelvic exam shows that patient 069984 has been sexually assaulted within the last few days and patient 017452’s tongue has been sliced nearly out of his mouth. There is nothing allowed into his room that would cause such damage. I am growing increasingly worried about what is happening here at night after I have gone home. I hate to think that it is someone on staff doing this, but it is my duty as their doctor not only to heal them but to keep them safe. Even if it means from those who I once thought I could trust._ **

Sam’s brows rose as he looked up at Dean, “That sound like a homicidal crazed doctor to you?” 

Dean shrugged a shoulder, “He might have been good once, but you know as well as I do what happens once these people become vengeful spirits.”

Jamal walked over to the bedside and gave a nod of greeting to the brothers, “How ya doin’, Sam?” 

Sam tilted his head up and smiled at Jamal, giving a nod, “I’m alright,” he answered, “thanks to you,” he lowered his head slightly, looking over at his brother, “and Dean.”

“Yeah well, jus’ try an’ keep yer hokey ass outta trouble for me, alright?” Jamal chuckled. 

Sam looked back up at him, smiling and chuckling softly as he gave a nod, “That’s the plan,” Sam agreed. 

He frowned curiously as he looked at Jamal, “Jamal,” Sam started, “how exactly did you know to do all that stuff anyway?”

Jamal’s eyes slid to Dean, his smile widening before he looked back at Sam, “I jus’ been listenin’ to yer man here,” he explained with a nod, “watchin’ what he’s been doin’,” he gave a shrug, “jus’ kinda followed suit.” 

Sam smiled, glancing at Dean proudly before returning his attention to Jamal, “Yeah, but how’d you know to shoot just above my head, that the ghost would be there?” Sam asked, giving a slow shake of his head. 

Jamal’s eyes widened as did his smile, showing rows of straight white teeth, “Oh that was jus’ luck, man,” he snorted, “I was actually aimin’ for yer head,” Jamal answered glancing at Dean and giving a secret wink. 

Dean threw back his head as he laughed outright, Jamal chuckling along with him, even as Sam frowned at the two of them. 

Adjusting his hold on the rifle in his hands, Jamal held a fisted hand out toward Dean.

As Dean lowered his head, still chuckling and snickering, his eyes lowered to Jamal’s fist. Lifting his own he bumped it against Jamal’s. 

“Way ta go, man,” Dean chuckled. 

Jamal gave a nod, smiling wide, “Glad ta be of service,” he joked before turning and making his way back across the room. 

Dean looked back over his shoulder, watching Jamal walk away before returning his attention to Sam. 

“I like him, he’s funny,” Dean remarked jovially.

Sam scowled, pouting, “You would,” he grumbled before returning his attention to the journal. 

“Hey,” Dean murmured as he reached a hand out, cupping the side of his brother’s jaw, gently forcing Sam to lift his head, his brother’s eyes meeting his own. “You know I love you,” Dean insisted.

Sam’s lips parted, eyes wide with slight shock at his brother’s words, his gaze darting past Dean at the others before returning to his brother. His throat convulsed as he swallowed hard, tongue darting out to lick across his lips. 

Lips twitching upward slightly at the corners, Dean leaned in, slanting his mouth over his brother’s, kissing his lips tenderly before pulling marginally back and leaning in again, head tilting the opposite direction, kissing his brother once more before he slowly pulled back. 

Sam’s lashes fluttered as he blinked his eyes open, a stunned look on his face. 

“Dean…” he breathed, glancing again past his brother before his eyes met Dean’s, head shaking slowly. 

Dean gave a small shrug of one shoulder, the corner of his lips quirking upward warmly, “I don’t care,” he whispered. 

Sam’s lips curled into a smile, dimples showing before he dropped his gaze from Dean’s, “Okay then,” he murmured softly, tilting his head to the side, giving a small firm nod, tongue darting out to lick his lips as his brow furrowed, his attention returning to the journal.

Dean’s smile widened before he lowered his eyes, looking down at the journal returning his attention to the case.

“So if it isn’t the doc then what? the patients?” Dean asked.

Sam raised his brows as he gave a one shouldered shrug, “Eh, you’d think,” he muttered before looking up at Dean. 

“If they were being mistreated, could be they stuck around for some payback?” Sam offered. 

Dean gave a nod, “Sounds like the makings of vengeful spirits to me,” he agreed.

Sam frowned thoughtfully, brow furrowing as he stared off.

“Thing is,” he began.

Dean groaned, “Ahh,” he growled, “I hate sentences that start with ‘thing is’.”

Sam’s lips twitched upward at the corners before he tore his gaze away from the spot he’d been staring off in as he thought back to the moment just before the doctor had found him. 

“I saw something just before the doctor found me,” Sam said, licking his lips as he tried to find the words to explain what he’d seen. 

“It was this… I dunno, an inky black mass,” he sighed and shook his head, blinking away the memory. “I know it sounds weird, but…”

“No, it doesn’t,” Dean interrupted, drawing Sam’s attention. “We saw it too; it’s what killed Abram and Amber.” 

Sam shook his head, “That’s not the patients, Dean,” Sam insisted. “This feels….”

“Evil,” Dean supplied with a nod.

Sam returned his brother’s nod, “Yeah,” he agreed. “A lot more than any of the ghosts have,” he commented, “even the ones that killed the others,” he shook his head, “they weren’t like that.” 

“Then we need to find out what that shit is,” Dean surmised, giving a nod as he pulled up off the bed, standing to his feet. 

“You feelin’ up to a little seek and destroy?” Dean asked as he gazed down at his brother, quirking a brow. 

Sam’s lips curved upward in a small smile as he gazed up at his brother. His lips parted; an answer on the tip of his tongue that he was never able to give as he was interrupted by Angelo, a low goan sounding from where he sat against the wall in the corner. 

“Uh, Dean…” Jamal called, his attention on the Italian kid as Angelo’s head rolled against the wall as he slowly regained consciousness; eyes cracking open. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Angelo croaked as he struggled against the rope binding his wrists behind his back. 

Dean stepped around the bed and toward Angelo at the same moment that Sam hurriedly got to his feet, following Dean over. 

“Eh, why don’t you tell us?” He suggested briskly. 

Angelo’s eyes darted between Jamal who stood over him, rifle in his hand and Dean who was glaring angrily at him. 

“I - I don’t know,” Angelo answered in confusion, “I don’t remember much after walking over to the bed…”

A muscle twitched in Dean’s jaw as he narrowed his eyes at Angelo, “You remember that, do ya?” He asked with a nod. 

“Well, yeah,” Angelo answered, “I told Sam that we needed him to wake up,” he glanced over at Jamal before returning his attention to Dean, “I thought Jamal and Jesse were gonna kill each other.”

Dean’s brow knitted in bewilderment, “What?” He asked, shaking his head. He glanced back at Sam before returning his attention to Angelo, “You don’t remember tryin’ to play tonsil hockey with Sam?”

Angelo’s eyes widened, looking over at Sam then back at Dean, “What?” He asked incredulously, “No!” 

Sam frowned softly, brow furrowing as he tore his gaze from Angelo, looking over at Dean, “I don’t think he’s lying, Dean.”

“No,” Dean muttered softly, “I don’t think so either.”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly, “You don’t?” He asked taken aback by the fact that his brother actually believed Angelo. 

Dean’s lips quirked upward slightly at the corners as he looked over at Sam and gave a small shrug, “Shocking, I know, right?” He snorted before giving a one shouldered shrug. “It’s kinda like Amber was earlier though…”

“Amber?” Sam asked, brow knitting in a frown.

Dean nodded, glancing at Angelo before looking back at Sam, “Yeah, she came on to me pretty strong in the kitchen,” he looked back at Angelo, “and she didn’t seem to remember it either.” 

Sam shook his head and scoffed in disgusted disbelief at his brother over Dean’s not having told him. 

“Don’t get yer panties in a twist, sasquatch,” Dean said, glancing over at his brother, “I told her no way,” he explained with a careless shrug. “‘Sides,” he continued, returning his attention to Angelo, “she said somethin’ about ‘help me’ when she had her mouth all up against my ear.”

“Help me?” Sam asked, brow furrowing as he frowned in puzzlement. “Help her what?” 

Dean turned slightly at the waist toward his brother and gave a shrug, “Eh, I dunno,” he looked from Sam to Angelo and back, quirking a brow, “Cassanova here didn’t say anything like that to you?”

Sam shook his head, corners of his lips turned down in a thoughtful frown, “Not that I know of.”

Frowning in irritation, Dean scoffed, “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Sam? Not that you know of, either he did or he didn’t.”

Sam pressed his lips tightly together, jaw clenched, “I was kind of unconscious, Dean,” he huffed, “and when I woke up, it was with Angelo kissing me while I was choking,” he spat. 

Dean grit his teeth, muscle twitching in his clenched jaw as he reached back with one hand, pulling his pistol from the back of his waistband, aiming it at Angelo. 

“You don’t remember, huh?” Dean sneered.

“Whoa, man! I didn’t _do_ anything!” Angelo insisted.

“Dean, what are you doing? You can’t shoot him!” Kelley shrieked. 

“God, man no! You can’t do this,” Jesse reasoned.

“Really?” Dean growled, “Why can’t I?”

Jamal’s attention snapped from Dean to Angelo and back in indecision. 

“Dean,” Sam soothed, “dude, calm down, it’s okay, I’m okay…”

Unknown to the group quarreling amongst themselves, one of the ghosts of the asylum, the same female who had touched both Amber and Angelo appeared, flickering in and out of focus behind Kelley. Her full lips, once a deep shade of red, now blue from strangulation slowly curved in a seductive smile as she moved closer to the unsuspecting young woman in front of her. 

Standing directly behind Kelley, the ghost girl leaned in, her mouth near Kelley’s ear as she turned her head, full lips, now half rotted away by decay, slid along the smooth flesh of skin just behind Kelley’s ear.

“Dean, stop this, please,” Kelley begged, her gaze flickering between him and Angelo, “just put the gun down.” 

She lifted a hand distractedly and swatted at the strange sensation against her skin, like the creepy crawling feel of a bug. 

“Kelley’s right, Dean,” Sam agreed, “you can’t do this…”

Half decayed arms, peppered with large bruises slid around Kelley’s middle, pulling her up against the body of the ghost behind her.

“Help me,” whispered the ghost girl against Kelley’s ear.

Kelley’s heart hammered against her chest, a strangled whimper of fear tearing from her lips as she slowly turned her head, eyes widening with fear as she looked over her shoulder at the ghost that flickered in and out once before solidifying. Dipping her head, the ghost slanted her mouth over Kelley’s just as Kelley let out a loud ear piercing whine of protest. 

The cry of panic and fear from Kelley drew everyone’s attention, Dean turning, gun in hand, pointing now at the ghost. He pulled the trigger, firing a round of rock salt into the ghost. The ghost abruptly disappeared and Kelley started to slump forward in relief, her legs buckling out from under her. 

Sam moved quickly toward Kelley, catching her in his arms before she had a chance to hit the floor. Sam turned his attention back to his brother, his gaze darting between Dean’s gun and his brother’s face. 

Dean lifted his brows at his brother, “Another life saved by girl on girl action,” Dean drawled, the corner of his lips quirking upward into a slight smirk.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

After untying Angelo the six of them set out to try to find the source of what was going on in the old asylum and put an end to it. Dean, Sam and Jamal led the others through the maze of corridors, the three of them armed and on alert, keeping an eye out for any apparitions that they might encounter as well as that inky black whatever it was. 

Jamal snickered and shook his head as he walked next to Dean, turning his head to look over at the elder Winchester. 

“Man, I so thought you were gonna put a cap in his ass,” he chuckled.

Dean gave a careless one shouldered shrug, “I was,” he agreed, lips curved down into a thoughtful frown.

Sam huffed softly at Dean’s opposite side, “Rock salt is not putting a,” he paused and glanced over at Jamal before looking back at Dean, “is not _shooting_ Angelo,” he corrected, dropping his gaze a moment before lifting it. “It wouldn’t kill him anyway,” he mumbled softly. 

Dean again shrugged, brows lifting, “Naw, but it’d hurt like hell.” 

Jamal chuckled and gave a nod as he returned his attention forward, giving a snort. “S’what it’s all about,” he agreed. 

“Yeah well, do you think that you guys can stop competing in the ‘who has the bigger dick’ competition long enough to maybe figure out how we can all keep from dying here?” Kelley asked with a huff. 

Dean grinned and glanced back over his shoulder at her, “Oh there’s no competition, sweetheart,” he drawled, returning his attention forward. “I win that contest,” he muttered, lips quirked upward at the corner in a cocky smirk. 

Sam shot Dean a disapproving frown. 

“What?” Dean asked innocently, catching sight of Sam’s aggravated look. 

“Looks like yer boy disagrees,” Jamal quipped teasingly, giving a soft chuckle. “S’a’ight though,” Jamal nodded sagely, “S’no way ya coulda beat me anyway,” he bragged, lifting a hand to slap Dean on the back jovily. 

Dean scoffed, “Uh-huh, right,” he shot Sam a dirty look, eyes narrowed. “S’not what he was sayin’ last night,” Dean mumbled, glancing back over at Jamal. 

“I’m not disagreeing, I -” Sam started only to pause in his words when it was obvious that neither Dean nor Jamal were listening to him anyway. 

He nodded thoughtfully, “You think you got me beat?” Dean asked challengingly, pausing in his steps and turning to face Jamal. 

Sam stopped walking as Dean did, turning his full attention to his brother and Jamal, eyes widening incredulously. 

“Dean,” Sam snapped through clenched teeth, causing his brother to look over his shoulder at him. Sam glanced past Dean at Jamal before looking back at his brother. 

“You are _not_ doing this,” he scolded. 

Jamal smirked, looking past Dean at Sam before returning his attention to Dean. 

“Sounds like yer ole lady’s not real happy,” Jamal drawled, lips pulled into a wide grin, showing rows of straight white teeth. 

Dean glanced back at Sam before returning his attention to Jamal, brow furrowing thoughtfully. 

“He _is_ kinda ole lady-ish, isn’t he?” He joked, the corner of his lips pulled upward in a smirk.

Jamal laughed and lifted a hand, clapping Dean on the shoulder and jutted his chin toward the area ahead of them, “C’mon, my brotha,” he chuckled. 

Sam scoffed at both Jamal and his brother and shook his head as he hung it before glancing up over his brows at the two of them. Sighing, he began to follow after them once Dean and Jamal started walking once more. 

They moved through the asylum venturing back into areas that only Dean and Sam had been before in their initial search of the place the night they had all first arrived. Inching down narrow passageways that seemed to have been made by false walls being erected for reasons unknown, closing off what had once been average corridors. 

Dean made a disgusted sound as they inched along, moving sideways down the passage. 

“Why do we always end up here, Sam?” Dean asked, giving his head a shake, “Headin’ down some nasty ass crawl space,” he sneered, frowning at the mess of cobwebs and rat droppings along the way. “It’s friggin’ gross,” he spat.

Sam sighed but didn’t answer, knew it was pretty well a rhetorical question even though his brother had a damn good point. 

The area opened up into a room that Dean and Sam hadn’t seen before when they’d explored. 

“…the HELL?” Dean muttered as he looked around the large room lined with metal pipes, chains hanging down from the ceiling. The walls of the room seemed to be made of glass, allowing the moonlight to shine through, illuminating the area dimly. 

Sam’s gaze darted about the room, his head tilting upward, looking up at the ceiling for a second; his brow knitting at what he saw. 

“Hey, Dean,” Sam called, gaining his brother’s attention.

Sam glanced over at his brother before nodding toward the ceiling. Dean’s eyes followed Sam’s gaze, looking up to find the shimmer and swirl of water reflected up onto the metal lined ceiling. 

Lowering his gaze, Dean edged further into the room, the floor under his booted feet became metal scaffolding. Inching toward the center of the room, Dean looked down over a railing into a large, deep pool of water. 

Glancing back over his shoulder, Dean jerked his head toward the pool as his eyes met Sam’s, silently calling his brother over. 

Dean eyed his brother as Sam walked over and peered over the side of the railing, looking down into the dark water below them. 

“Huh…” Sam muttered, frowning thoughtfully. 

“Yeah,” Dean sighed in frustration, “I don’t even think I wanna know what that’s supposed to be for,” he mumbled. 

Sam looked over at his brother, brows raised. 

“S’definitely not club med down there,” Dean grumbled, eliciting a nod from his brother.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed on a sigh, “you could say that.”

“What the hell is that?” Jamal asked as he stepped up to the railing, taking a peek over the side before looking back at the Winchesters. 

“Spa treatment,” Dean quipped sarcastically. 

“Oh my God,” Kelley murmured as she looked over the railing at the deep pool of water before giving a shiver and wrapping her arms around herself. 

Jesse and Angelo took their turns looking over the edge, neither saying much only giving small shakes of their head as they stepped back from the railing. 

“Now where to?” Jesse asked as they all stood looking around the strange room. The only way out seemed to be going back the way they had come unless they crossed a narrow metal bridge that ran across the length of the pool leading off to the opposite side. 

Dean stared at the narrow bridge a long moment in indecision, before he looked over at Jesse, face set in determined lines. 

“We go across it,” Dean answered matter-of-factly. 

“What?” Kelley asked incredulously, “You can’t be serious,” she insisted. “That thing,” she gestured toward the bridge, “looks like it could fall over any minute!”

“I said, we go across it,” Dean repeated stubbornly. 

“Dean,” Sam placated; eyes wide and beseeching as he looked at his brother. 

“You know I’m right, Sam,” Dean insisted, “whatever we need it’s over that bridge.”

Sam sighed and turned to face the others, “Look everybody, Dean’s right, what we need to help figure this out, to stop all this,” he glanced over his shoulder toward the other side of the bridge before looking back at the others. “It probably _is_ across the bridge,” he agreed begrudgingly, giving a heavy sigh, “and I hate to say this, but it’s better if we all stick together.”

“If we’re doin’ this, an’ just for the record, I hate this plan,” Jamal said, his gaze darting between Sam and Dean, “how we gonna do it?” He asked before looking over at the bridge and shaking his head. “There’s no way we can all get across it at once.”

Sam looked back toward the bridge thoughtfully. Jamal had a point, the thing looked rusted to hell and that was just the start of the problems with it. As narrow as it was, he was certain there was no way more than one person could walk across at a time. 

His gaze moved to Dean questioningly, hoping his brother had an answer for this one. When Dean only gave a one shouldered shrug, head tilting marginally to one side, Sam sighed and turned his attention back to Jamal and the others. 

“We form a line, slowly making our way across.” Sam answered. 

“One goes, we all go?” Jamal asked, lifting his brows, dark eyes intent on Sam’s hazel.

Sam gave a nod, “Yeah, somethin’ like that,” he agreed, muscle twitching in his jaw before he turned his head, looking back at his brother. 

“Alright,” Dean muttered as he stepped forward, standing next to his brother, “you heard him, let’s go, one at a time,” Dean commanded. 

Turning and walking toward the bridge in front of the others, Dean looked over at Sam, “You go first, I’ll take the rear.”

Sam paused in his steps and turned to face his brother, causing Dean to do the same. “What? No,” Sam argued.

Dean lifted his brows, lips curving down in a perplexed frown, “Why not?”

Sam huffed and shifted his weight, “You want me to take the front so that you’ll know I make it to the other side first,” he accused. 

“Mmmmmm,” Dean hummed and shrugged a shoulder, “so what if I did?” He asked. “It’s not the worst thing in the world, to make sure you’re okay,” Dean stated, before starting to walk again, “though I was actually thinking’ you could cover us if anythin’ was comin’.”

Sam scoffed, clenching his jaw before starting after his brother. 

“Okay,” Dean said as they all reached the bridge, “one at a time,” he reminded them. “Sam, you go first, then Jesse and then Jamal,” he instructed. “Kelly can follow them and then Angelo, I’ll go last.” 

Dean gave his brother a nod, watching as Sam put a foot up tentatively on the bridge, waiting to see what would happen. The metal creaked and groaned but otherwise held solid. Slowly, Sam lifted his opposite foot, placing it on the bridge next to the first. 

Dean tore his gaze away from his brother as Jamal walked up, offering Dean a small smile and a nod. 

“So this is it, huh?” Jamal asked, nodding toward the bridge as he paused in front of Dean, “The bridge ta Narnia.”

Dean smiled and gave a nod, “Guess so,” he agreed before pressing his lips together as he looked back at his brother a moment then returned his attention to Jamal. 

“Do somethin’ for me?” Dean asked. 

“You name it bro,” Jamal answered with a firm nod. 

“Watch out for Sammy for me,” Dean said, bowing his head a moment before looking back up at Jamal. “He’s kinda my responsibility, ya know?” Dean sighed, “Just make sure he stays safe, no matter what happens.”

Jamal gave a slow nod of understanding, his gaze intent on Dean’s. 

“Fo’ sheazy,” Jamal agreed, lifting a hand for Dean to clasp, arm bent at the elbow. They both smiled as they shook hands. Releasing Dean’s hand, Jamal stepped past him and up onto the bridge behind Sam. 

One by one they filed onto the metal bridge which creaked and groaned each time more weight was added to it, the metal under their feet shimmying slightly. Dean was the last to step onto the bridge, those at the front of the line more than halfway across by that point. 

There were no side rails along the narrow bridge allowing them something to hold onto, which made every small movement that the metal beneath their feet made seem that much worse, nearly throwing them off balance. Sections of the metal were gone completely, though those areas were small, the largest ones only roughly six inches in length so they were easily avoided as long as you watched where you were going in the low lit room. 

Kelley took another step, her small size five and a half feet, shuffling forward and accidently catching in one of the holes in the bridge. She gasped, eyes widening as she was thrown off balance. Her arms came up to steady herself, but it was too late, her upper body leaning too far forward, causing her to fall over the side of the bridge. She screamed as she started to fall, her voice catching as did her body when her trapped foot stopped her movement. 

Dean’s eyes widened, watching her arms flail, though he was too late as he reached for her in order to try and steady her, her arm slipping through his grasp. 

Everyone’s attention turned to Kelley upon hearing her scream, the line stopping as Sam looked paused in his steps, looking back.

Dean fell to his knees near where Kelley’s body dangled upside down. Releasing the rifle in his hands, Dean reached down for Kelley’s as he called out to her, “Grab my hand!”

Kelley tried to pull her upper body upright enough to be able to reach for Dean’s hand, only to fall back, dangling once more. 

“I can’t!” She cried. 

The motion and her weight pulling on the rusted metal slowly ripped the hole her foot was caught in bigger. 

“Goddammit, Kelley, try harder!” Dean shouted as he leaned further over the side, reaching down as far as he could. 

“Dean!” Sam called to his brother. He started to take a step back toward Dean only to have Jamal shake his head.

“Dude, the bridge is too narrow, yer gonna have ta wait here,” Jamal reasoned before returning his attention to Dean and Kelley, muttering under his breath that they’d be able to make it. 

Kelley’s foot slipped further and finally broke free, sending her crashing down into the deep waters below, water splashing upward, raining down on the others from her impact. 

“No!” Dean growled before glancing toward Sam, his eyes moving to Jamal, a silent message passing between him and Jamal before Dean dove off the bridge into the water below. 

“Dean!” Sam shouted and once again started back toward where his brother had jumped, only to have Jamal shove him back the other way, shaking his head at Sam. 

Sam frowned in confusion at Jamal, _‘What the hell is he doing?’_

“I think you need ta jus’ calm down, Sam,” Jamal reasoned. 

Sam pointed toward the pool, “ _That_ is my brr - boyfriend down there!” He barked. 

Jamal gave a nod, “I know that,” he answered, “and he wants you to keep your little white ass up here, where it’s safe,” he answered simply. “Trust me, I know these things.” 

******

Dean gasped in a breath as he hit the freezing cold water, sucking water into his lungs. With the water so cold it felt like knives stabbing into his body all over, all at once. He struggled to swim toward the surface, which seemed like a helluva long way up. Finally his head broke the surface of the water and Dean came up coughing and sputtering; his body shivering violently. 

“Kelley? Kelley!” He called, jaw clenching, his teeth chattering. 

_Sonuva…_

He dove back under the fridged waters, looking for Kelley. He finally located her far to one side of the tank, floating there, her head hanging, chin to chest, body seemingly limp. Swimming over to her, Dean wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him before paddling for the surface. 

******

“You don’t know anything,” Sam retorted, “now get out of my way, I’m not gonna just stand here and watch him die down there!” 

Jamal tilted his head to one side and took a step back, “Actually,” Jamal countered as he lowering the rifle he held, pointing it at Sam, “if that’s what happens,” he gave a nods, “it’s _exactly_ what ‘cher gonna do.” 

Sam tore his gaze from Jamal, looking for a way past him, some conceivable way he could make it back over and dive into the water after Dean. 

“Don’ make me put a cap in yo’ ass,” Jamal warned as he watched Sam intently, dark eyes narrowing. “He doesn’t want you down there; he wants you safe on the other side.” 

Returning his attention to Jamal, Sam’s eyes tightened, “I don’t care! Shoot me! I’m goin’ down there!” He growled, shrugging off his jacket. 

“Like hell you are,” Jamal growled back, turning the rifle and using it to bump Sam further down the bridge. “No hokey white ass biatch is gonna make me ga back on my word to a brotha, you got that boy? Now you jus’ need ta stop buggin’ an’ jus’ chill.” 

Sam shoved Jamal back before trying to squeeze past him, only to once again, have Jamal shove him back.

“Can you two stop it?” Jesse snapped as he looked over at Sam and Jamal as though they had both lost their minds. 

******

Dean broke the surface of the water, lips blue, body shivering, Kelley held in his arms. He tilted his head back, looking up at the bridge. 

“C-c-can we g-g-get a little,” he stuttered from the cold, pausing to gulp in air, “a little help up?” 

Everyone paused in what they were doing as Dean’s head broke the surface of the water, all four pairs of eyes on Dean. At his brother’s request for assistance, Sam tore his gaze off his brother, his eyes meeting Jamal’s as he raised his brows, head tilting to the side in a silent request of his own, for Jamal to allow him to pass. 

Jamal stepped back on the narrow bridge, trying to make himself as thin as possible to allow Sam room to pass by him before turning and following after the younger Winchester. 

“Everybody get outta the way,” Jamal instructed as he and Sam slowly and cautiously made their way back to the area where Kelley had fallen and Dean had jumped in after her. 

Lowering to their knees, almost simultaneously, Sam and Jamal peered over the side of the bridge, looking down at Dean and Kelley. 

“Dean,” Sam called, concern evident in his voice. 

“You okay, man?” Jamal hollered. 

Dean nodded, his lips curving upward in a small warm smile as he looked up at Sam. 

“Yeah,” he muttered before raising his voice so they could hear him, “Yeah, m’okay,” he answered, “m’jus’ freezin’ my balls off,” he added in a half grumble.

Sam’s lips quirked upward slightly as he released a breath of relief that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding before nodding to his brother. 

“Just hold on, we’re gonna get you guys out,” he said, voice raised to be sure Dean could hear him. 

Dean nodded again before lowering his gaze, his jaw clenching as he shivered, teeth chattering. 

“Friggin’ hurry, Sammy,” he mumbled softly as his gaze traveled over the area of the pool warily. 

His grip tightened around Kelley’s unconscious form as he waited for Sam and the others to figure out how to get the two of them out of there. 

******

Looking up at the chains that hung from the ceiling, Sam noticed how some seemed to be quite long; they were just looped and rehung further away from the bridge. 

“Huh…” he muttered. 

Jamal looked over at Sam, lifting his brows. 

“Huh, what?” He asked. 

Sam returned his gaze to Jamal, lips pressed in a thin line as he regarded him, uncertain if he wanted to even bother working with the jerk since he had been ready to let his brother die down there. Then again, Jamal had mentioned something about having given his word. 

He scoffed softly and the idea, pretty sure he had just figured out why Jamal had done what he had. Sam pushed the thought away for now, fully intending to confront Dean about it later. Now however, was not the time. 

“Well,” Sam began at long last, glancing back upward at the chains above them. “some of those chains look long enough to reach the water,” he commented before returning his eyes to Jamal’s, “we just need to get ‘em unhooked so that we can use ‘em.”

Jamal looked up at the chains and back down at Sam, “Like a rope, get Dean and the girl ta grab on and we all heave-ho, eh?”

Sam’s lips quirked upward at the corners as he gave a nod, “Something like that, yeah,” he agreed. 

“Huh…” Jamal echoed Sam’s earlier comment as he looked back up at the chains. 

“You think its nuts,” Sam guessed, drawing Jamal’s attention back to him. 

“Naw,” he replied, shaking his head, “I was jus’ wonderin’ where some honkey white ass boy would learn ta do somethin’ like ’at.” 

Sam gave a soft chuckle and a small shake of his head, “Believe me, you _don’t_ wanna know.” 

******

Kelley gasped in a breath, her head lifting as she blinked open her eyes, pushing away from whatever she was pressed up against. 

Dean tightened his arm around her waist as he tilted his head to the side, looking at her profile.

“Kel?” He asked, “You alright? You with us now?” 

Kelley turned her head, looking back over her shoulder at Dean, body immediately beginning to tremble as the cold made itself known to her now conscious body. She gave a stiff nod to Dean’s question before turning her head, her gaze moving over the area of the pool. 

“What ha - happened?” She asked, lips quivering from the cold, voice hitching. 

“You don’t remember anything?” Dean asked, quirking a brow. 

“I - I remember falling,” she murmured, turning her head, looking back at Dean, “but how did you…?”

Dean’s forced smile cut her off, “Couldn’t let you go in alone, could I?” 

Kelley tentatively returned his smile before slowly tearing her gaze away from his. 

“Thank you,” she muttered, brow furrowing in confusion as she noted that they both seemed trapped now, “I think,” she added. 

Dean huffed softly, “Eh, don’t mention it,” he quipped on a sigh before looking back up at the others on the bridge over head. 

******

Sam pulled up, standing to his full height, Jamal straightening as Sam did. 

“So, you got any ideas on how we’re gonna reach across that far to get one of ‘em?” Jamal asked, eyeing the longer chains before glancing over at Sam. 

Sam pressed his lips into a thin determined line, exhaling heavily as he tried to figure out a way for them to be able to do this without someone else falling into the freezing water below. 

“Dude,” Angelo said, looking from the chains above them and down at the water before turning his gaze to Sam, shaking his head, “I dunno that we’re gonna be able to do this,” he confided, “I think you’re gonna have to let it go.”

Sam’s eyes widened marginally before narrowing, brow furrowed in confusion and anger, “What are you saying?” He asked incredulously, “You just want me to leave Kelley and my brother down there?”

“Hey man, he has a point,” Jesse cut in, “I know he’s your brother and I’m sorry, man, but we’re half way across the bridge. I say we keep going and don’t look back.”

Sam’s jaw clenched, muscle twitching as he grit his teeth, “You bastards,” he spat. “You know damn well if it was either of you down there Dean would be trying to figure out a way to save your sorry asses.”

Angelo lifted his brows, “I dunno,” he snapped, “he seemed rather eager to blow my brains out earlier.” 

“Man’s got a point,” Jesse agreed with a shrug. 

Sam’s nostrils flared with rage, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he glared at the two of them. 

“You two wanna keep goin’ no body’s keeping’ yer chickenhead asses here,” Jamal barked. “Go,” he jutted his chin toward the end of the bridge, “get the hell outta here,” he hissed angrily. “If yer stayin’ though, we all help Sam get his brother back up here, end’a story.”

“Who put you in charge all of the sudden?” Jesse spat. 

Jamal narrowed his eyes, “The fact that I’ll put a cap in yo’ ass without even blinkin’ put me in charge.”

Angelo scoffed, “That’s just rock salt,” he sneered, glancing at the rifle as he stepped up to Jamal, his face in Jamal’s challengingly. 

“Yeah,” Jamal allowed before reaching into his jacket pocket as he took a step back, pulling out a 9 millimeter Glock and pointing it at Angelo and Jesse, “but this one, _isn’t_.”

Sam’s eyes widened marginally as he looked at Jamal, “Where did you get that?” He asked, startled. 

“Home grown,” Jamal answered smoothly, his gaze never wavering off the other two. 

“Hey!” Dean called, brow furrowed at the scene playing out on the bridge. “What the hell’s goin’ on up there?”

Jamal glanced to the side briefly before returning his attention to Jesse and Angelo. 

“Jus’ a little misunderstanding,” Jamal answered, voiced raised so Dean could hear him. “Nothin’ fer you ta worry about,” he mumbled, eyeing the two he held the gun trained on.

Sam’s gaze darted between Jamal and Angelo and Jesse before glancing down into the water at his brother. Returning his attention to the situation before him Sam’s throat convulsed as he swallowed hard, his eyes lowering to the weapon in Jamal’s hand. 

“Okay, everybody just calm down,” he instructed, gaze darting up to Jamal‘s profile. 

“Oh I’m calm, Sam,” Jamal drawled, eyes narrowing on Angelo and Jesse as his lips quirked upward in a sneer. “I’m jus’ fine.”

Sam gave a nod, brow knitting briefly, “Okay,” he agreed, “just put the gun down, Jamal.”

Jamal frowned thoughtfully, “Sure, jus’ tell yer boy here not ta be getting’ all up in my grill,” he agreed with a sneer, giving a nod. 

“Guys, please…” Sam pleaded, glancing back down at Dean and Kelley before returning his attention to the others, “We don’t have time for this.” 

Angelo gave a nod as he swallowed and glanced past Jamal at Sam, “Sam’s right,” he agreed. “If we’re all stickin’ around here, we should get this done before that black shit finds us or another one of those ghosts.”

Jamal glared at Angelo a long moment before looking past him at Jesse, jutting his chin toward him, “You?”

Jesse nodded, “Yeah,” he answered, “I agree. Let’s just get this over with and get the hell outta here.”

Jamal held the gun on them a few moments longer before slowly disengaging the hammer as he lowered the gun, tucking it back into his jacket pocket. 

Sam blew out a breath of relief before giving a nod of approval, “Alright, let’s get Dean and Kelley outta there.”

Jamal gave a nod, “It’s all you man, whatever you need, we’ll do.”

Tearing his gaze away from the others, Sam looked back up at the chains with a sigh, brow furrowing thoughtfully as he pressed his lips tightly together. 

Glancing down at the rifle, Sam frowned and looked back up.

“Jamal, hand me that rifle, will ya?” Sam asked distractedly.

Jamal frowned thoughtfully as he looked up at the chains, “Whatever you want, man,“ Jamal agreed, lifting the rifle, offering it to Sam. 

Sam glanced over at Jamal, his eyes dropping to the rifle before he reached out with one hand, taking it from him. Stretching forward, Sam let his hand slide down to the butt end of the rifle, using it like a stick to knock against the chains, missing them just marginally. 

“Shit,” Sam mumbled, looking back at Jamal then over at the others. “Can you guys hold onto me so I don’t fall in?”

Jamal gave a nod, giving Angelo and Jesse a tense look as he stepped closer to Sam, watching as the others did the same, each grabbing hold of Sam’s waist, holding him on the bridge. 

Sam took a deep breath and looked from Jamal over to Angelo and Jesse, “Don’t let go,“ he muttered before stretching foreword once more, knocking one end of the rifle against the chains in an attempt to knock them loose. 

At first nothing happened other than Sam getting frustrated that he wasn’t quite reaching as far as he needed to. Standing on tip toe he stretched as far out as he could. Being the tallest of all of them, if anyone had a chance to reach the chains and get them loose, it was him. 

“Sam,” Jamal called to him as Sam’s feet started to slip and slide against the metal under their feet, his body soon only being kept from falling into the water by the three men holding him, their muscles bulging with the effort to keep Sam from falling over the side. 

“I… almost…got it…” Sam grunted as he stretched as far as he could. It took three more tries before the chain came loose, a long piece falling down from the ceiling all the way down into the pool below them. 

Dean looked up as the chain fell into the water next to where he and Kelley bobbed as they treaded water.

The weight of Sam’s upper body sent the younger Winchester half toppling over into the water, Jamal, Jesse and Angelo’s grip on his body slipping loose. 

“Sam!” Jamal growled. 

Sam’s eyes widened in fear as his upper body fell over the side of the bridge, the three men holding him toppling over; dropping onto the metal flooring of the bridge beneath them. 

“Sammy!” Dean shouted, in alarm, eyes widening. 

Angelo lost his grip on Sam, staggering backward as the others fell onto the bridge. Angelo’s foot hit the edge of the bridge, eyes widening in panic, arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance in vain just before he plummeted over the side of the bridge, plunging down into the icy cold waters below. 

Dean gasped in a breath as his gaze tracked the falling body before it hit the water. 

_Sonuvabitch!_

Sam dangled off the edge of the bridge, only Jesse’s grip on his legs and Jamal’s grip on the waistband of his jeans kept the Winchester from doing a nose dive into the deep frigid water below. 

Kelley shrieked drawing Dean’s attention, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Bodies, countless dead bodies popping up to the surface of the icy waters all staring sightlessly straight ahead; through glassy greyed and fogged eyes, their skin pasty white and wrinkled, half decayed with age. 

“Sonuva…” Dean growled low. 

“Dean,” Sam called, “Angelo,” he said, looking up over his brows at his brother as he hung upside down. 

Dean returned his attention above them. 

“Goddammit!” Dean snarled. “Jamal, pull his ass up!” Dean shouted. “I’ll get Angelo,” he said before slowly swimming toward the chain that dangled into the water, Kelley still held against him, one arm around her waist.

“Hold onto this,” he instructed Kelley, handing her the chain. 

“Dean,” she cried, “Don’t leave me!” she begged, her eyes wide and fearful. 

“I have to get Angelo,” he explained, giving her a nod, “I’ll be back,” he promised before diving under the water. 

“Help me get him back up on the bridge,” Jamal commanded as he looked over at Jesse while pulling on Sam, struggling to drag his body back onto the metal flooring of the bridge. 

Sam groaned in pain, eyes squeezing tightly closed, his head throbbing as images of countless patients being brought here, dunked into the freezing water and dying here flashed through his mind. Some were brought here by the doctor, his treatments crude and barbaric though only lasting short bouts of time. And then there were others, men in short white coats that would bring the patients in, bind them to boards and dunk them repeatedly into the freezing waters. 

Sometimes these men would simply leave the patients here inside the pool after covering it, turning out the lights, plunging them in total darkness before walking out. He could feel the patients fear, their panic. Some would slowly drown while others who were brought in naked died of exposure; shivering and shaking with cold in the frigid water. 

Dean dove deep toward the bottom of the pool, searching for Angelo amongst the dead bodies that seemed to reach out and grab at him, but that was ridiculous. Wasn’t it? There was no way that dead bodies could be animated like that. Could they? They weren’t ghosts. 

His lungs burned from the cold and lack of oxygen as Dean continued to search, unwilling to admit defeat, to leave Angelo down here somewhere. He finally spotted the kid a few feet in front of him and swam toward him as hands gripped and clawed at him as he swam by body after body, tugging on him and trying to pull him down further into the deep water. 

Reaching Angelo, Dean tried to grab the guy only to get smacked and shoved away as Angelo flailed hysterically in a blind panic; dead bodies converging in on him. 

Dean started to shout at Angelo to calm down only to get a mouthful of the icy water for his troubles, causing Dean to have to head for the surface. 

Panicked and out of his mind with fear, Angelo reached up and out, grabbing onto Dean’s ankle trying to pull him back as the dead bodies pulled down on Angelo, pushing him deeper into the water. 

Dean turned, looking down at Angelo, tugging back on his ankle, trying to break free from the kid‘s hold; his lungs burning, blackness hovering at the edges of his vision from lack of oxygen. He hated to do it, but it was either him or Angelo and he wasn’t going down like this. He kicked at the kid over and over, before he ended up striking Angelo in the head; allowing him to break free of the kids hold. Dean quickly turned once he was loose, making a break for it, heading toward the surface. 

******

“Work with us, Sam!” Jamal commanded as he and Jesse worked to pull Sam back up onto the bridge. 

Sam panted, face a deep crimson and contorted in pain as blood oozed from his nose and upward across his cheek, dripping onto his eyelashes and down into his hair line at his forehead as he hung upside down. He groaned, one hand lifted to his face, thumb and forefinger against his temples. Flashes of Angelo dying, of the bodies under the water converging on him and pulling him deeper into the depths of the frigid water flashed before Sam’s closed eyes.

Jamal looked across Sam’s body over at Jesse when Sam didn’t answer or move to help them. 

“We gotta get him up,” Jamal instructed with a nod. 

Jesse nodded, “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, readjusting his hold on Sam, releasing his legs with one hand to reach for the waistband of Sam’s jeans and the back of his shirt before he moved his opposite hand up along with the first. 

He nodded and looked back up at Jamal, “Okay, I’m ready,” Jesse muttered. 

Jamal nodded, “Pull,” he instructed with a grunt as he too began to pull at Sam’s body. Slowly the two of them began to haul Sam back up onto the metal bridge. 

Sam could feel his body moving backward, bare skin from his shirts having risen with being upside down dragged across the rough and jagged rusted metal as he was tugged back onto the bridge. 

Jamal and Jesse released Sam’s waist once he was back up onto the bridge, chest lying against the cold metal, his head still hanging off the side. 

Reaching for Sam’s shoulder, Jamal pulled the younger Winchester up, this time Sam managed to press both hands against the bridge, helping to lift himself up off the rusted metal; sitting back on his heels. 

“Sam,” Jamal said, eyeing the younger Winchester’s face, “you okay, man?” 

Sam nodded; cracking his eyes open to look at Jamal, breaths panting out softly from between parted lips. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, “m’okay,” he answered, lifting a hand to grasp Jamal’s shoulder, “thanks,” he muttered, lifting his opposite hand to wipe at the blood on his face, wiping some away, smearing the rest.

Dean’s head broke the surface of the water a second later, gasping and sputtering in breaths, lips slack as he gulped in air, filling his burning oxygen deprived lungs. 

“Dean,” Kelley sighed. 

Sam turned his head, looking down into the pool, “Dean,” he called. 

Dean looked up toward the bridge and shook his head gravely. 

Sam nodded, “I know, it’s okay, you did all you could…”

He looked back at Jamal, “We gotta get them outta there, _now_ ,” Sam said with determination. 

Jamal gave a nod, “Let’s do this,” he agreed. 

Jesse, Jamal and Sam moved over to the chain that was hanging down in the water, all of them grasping it tightly in their hands. Sam wrapped the metal around one of his hands to be sure it didn’t slip. His eyes met Jamal’s and then glanced over to Jesse before returning his eyes to the chain, doing the same with one of his hands. 

The corner of Sam’s lips quirked upward at one corner as he watched Jamal before turning his attention to Dean and Kelley. 

“Okay, Dean, we’re ready,” Sam called, wishing like hell he’d come up first but he knew better; knew his brother wouldn’t leave Kelley down there, not that he could blame him really since he wouldn’t either but it didn’t stop him from wishing. 

Dean gave a nod and turned his attention to Kelley, “Take my jacket off and let me wrap it around the chain so ya don’t cut your hands on it,” Dean instructed, waiting as Kelley shrugged out of the jacket, letting it fall into the water where Dean caught it before it could sink. Lifting the jacket up to the chain, Dean wrapped and twisted the green army jacket around the chains, tying it tight and tugging on it to be certain how secure it was before giving her a nod. 

“Alright, grab onto it,” he said, “and don’t let go,” he added as he watched her wrap her hands around the cloth covered chain. 

Looking up at the others on the bridge Dean gave a nod, “Pull her up!” He called. 

The three men on the bridge began to pull at the chain, slowly pulling Kelley out of the water, Dean’s hands bracing against her as she rose from the icy water. 

“Hold on tight,” Dean called out to her, watching as her body rose above the surface of the water. 

Kelley whimpered softly deep in her throat as she grasped the chain tightly, legs wrapping around the end of the chain, her knuckles turning white with her tight grasp on the cloth covered areas of the metal. She glanced up at the bridge still a ways above her, before looking back down at Dean below her. 

“Dean,” she called nervously. 

“You’re doin’ good, just hold on,” he encouraged, trying to keep an eye on the dead bodies that seemed to slowly be closing in on him as well as on Kelley above him. 

Hand over fist, Jamal, Sam and Jesse slowly pulled Kelley up to the edge of the bridge, arm muscles trembling and bulging with the effort to pull her wet body upward by the chain. 

“Take my hand,” Sam panted softly, releasing the chain with one of his hands, offering it to her, his opposite hand turning white as the chain coiled around it tightened. 

Kelley cautiously released the cloth covered area of the chain with one hand and reached for Sam’s, grasping it tightly. Sam growled with the effort to pull her up. Releasing the chin with one hand, Jamal reached out, grabbing Kelley’s arm further up around her bicep and pulled, helping Sam to haul her up onto the metal bridge. 

Kelley gasped, body trembling and shaking as she was pulled up onto the bridge flat on her belly. She scrambled up into a sitting position, knees pulled up to her chest, arms tucked in against her body, lips trembling with cold, teeth chattering as her hair dripped icy water onto the metal around her. 

Jesse, Jamal and Sam released the chain allowing it to fall back into the water before they turned their attention to Kelley; Jamal and Jesse rubbing their hands up and down her arms in an attempt to get her warmer. 

Glancing past Kelley, Sam jutted his chin toward his jacket, “Get her my jacket,” he suggested, watching as Jesse glanced up at him before releasing her and pulling to his feet, crossing the short distance over to where Sam’s jacket lie. He bent at the waist, snatching up the coat before pulling up to his full height and walking back over, crouching next to Kelley and wrapping the jacket around her shoulder. 

Dean sighed in relief as he watched Kelley get pulled up onto the bridge before he lowered his gaze; his eyes widening marginally at how close the dead bodies had gotten as he’d been watching Kelley get pulled to safety. 

Satisfied that Kelley was going to be alright, Sam lowered his eyes, his thoughts going to his brother. “Dean,” Sam muttered softly as he lifted his head, turning it to peer over the edge of the bridge down at Dean. His eyes widened, watching as the dead bodies converged on his brother. 

“Dean!” Sam shouted in alarm.

Jaw set, teeth clenched together with determination, lips trembling with cold, Dean backed himself up against one area of the pool. His gaze darted, watching the dead bodies move in on him until he was surrounded. He drew back a fist, punching one body then another and another, trying in vain to fight them off. Each body he punched only sank under the water to pull at his feet and legs, dragging him down even as he kicked and fought against them. 

“No, you sonsabitches!” Dean growled, “No!” He shouted as he continued to fight. 

His eyes widened as they all seemed to move in at once, decayed and water swollen arms lifting to push him down under the water as hands gripped his legs, tugging at him. Dean slipped down under the water, the dead bodies covering the area where he had been before sinking under the frigid waters with him. 

Sam’s eyes widened as fear gripped his chest, his heart banging out of control as he watched Dean get pushed under the water, the last thing he saw of Dean was his brother’s hand, reaching up out of the water; and then there was nothing. 

“No,” he breathed, breaths panting out fearfully. He crawled further along the metal bridge, pausing above the pool location where Dean had disappeared, his eyes narrowing with strain, struggling to catch a glimpse of his brother under the dark water. “No!” He growled out between gritted teeth, nostrils flaring, tears stinging his eyes, “Dean!!!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

Sam’s scream had Jamal’s head jerking up, his attention turning to the younger Winchester before glancing back over the edge of the bridge, finding no trace of Dean anywhere. His gaze snapped back to Sam a moment before he lunged for him, wrapping his arms around the younger Winchester. Jamal’s arms pinned Sam’s to his sides as he held him back from jumping over the edge; Sam’s intentions having been clearly written across his face. 

Sam clenched his teeth, choking back a sob; the tears that had filled his eyes slowly spilled over making salty tracks down his cheeks. His head remained bowed, gaze laser focused on the icy waters below them as though if he stared long enough somehow his brother would reappear.

“Lemme go,” he choked hoarsely. 

“You know I can’t do that, man,” Jamal answered gently, “m’sorry.”

Sam sniffled and tried to shrug out of Jamal’s arms though he held fast refusing to release the younger Winchester. Grinding his teeth in irritation, Sam lifted his hands from his lap, pressing them palm flat against Jamal, shoving him away. 

“I said, let me go!” Sam growled, managing to knock away Jamal’s grip at least for the moment. 

Jamal reached out a hand, gripping a handful of Sam’s over shirt and tee, tugging on it to get Sam’s attention. 

Sam turned, red rimmed eyes narrowed in anger and pain to Jamal, his breaths panting with his anguish through softly parted lips as he stared at the guy. 

“I know, man,” Jamal gave a shrug of one shoulder, “my cousin was killed a few months back in a drive by, I know how it feels ta have someone ya care ‘bout ripped from you like that.”

Sam shook his head as he dropped his gaze, his mind playing over the last few months that he and Dean had been lovers as well as brothers. 

“It’s not the same,” Sam mumbled softly. 

Jamal shrugged a shoulder and frowned thoughtfully, “Yeah… but the pissed off feeling like you wanna kick the worlds ass,” he nodded, “that’s the same.” 

Sam scoffed softly, lifting his tear filled gaze, staring off a moment as he fought to blink back tears, to be strong like Dean always was. 

_‘If you gotta go down, go down fighting,’_ he heard his brother’s voice in his head and choked back a sob, nodding. 

“You gonna be okay?” Jamal asked, loosening his grip on Sam’s shirts marginally. 

Sam sniffled and turned his head, looking over at Jamal, “Yeah,” he croaked softly, forcing himself to give a small smile through his tears, a mere upturning of the corner of his lips. “It’s what he would have wanted, right?” Sam asked rhetorically before tearing his gaze away, staring off once more, bottom lip quiver just slightly. 

“Yeah,” he breathed and sniffled. “I’m okay.”

Jamal released Sam’s shirts and slapped his hand against Sam’s chest before pulling it away and turning his attention back to the others. He pulled up, standing to his feet, looking down at Jesse and Kelley. 

“We should get the hell outta here,” he commented. “S’not helping’ anyone ta be hangin’ out in here.” 

Kelley who had been too frozen to move much more than to pull Sam’s jacket closer around her, slowly lifted her head, her face tear streaked. 

“We’re just gonna leave Dean here?” She asked softly. 

Jamal sighed heavily, glancing over at Jesse who scooted closer to Kelley, wrapping his arms around her, one hand lifting to the side of her face, gently guiding her head down onto his shoulder. 

“Not like we got a helluva lotta choice,” Jamal mumbled half under his breath. 

Sam sat staring into the water as Jamal pulled to his feet. He barely heard the others speaking, only mumbled words that his mind wasn’t processing. 

_‘If he’s dead, I don’t want… I **can’t** go on with him,’_ Sam thought as he stared into the somber water. With a hallow ache in his chest, Sam leaned far forward over the side of the narrow walkway allowing himself to topple over the side of the bridge, plunging into the icy waters below. 

Jamal turned with a start toward the area where Sam had been sitting on the bridge as he heard the crashing water. 

“Sam!” 

Dean surfaced, blue tinged lips parted wide as he gulped in air. He started to weakly slip back under the frigid water, eyes rolling back as unconsciousness slowly closed in on him. With the last of his strength, he reached up with one hand, curling it into a tight fist as he gripped the chain that hung into the water. Shoulders slumped, head slightly bowed, he allowed his forehead to rest against his drenched cotton clad bicep. 

“Sammy,” he mumbled feebly. 

The dead bodies nearly converged on Sam as he sank deep below the water’s the water’s frigid depths. Survival instinct had him struggling to get away from their tumbling grasps, punching and wiggling himself free of the weight of their bodies crushing down on him. Finally managing to work himself loose, Sam swam hard toward the surface of the freezing water. He gulped in a deep breath of air though parted trembling lips as his head broke the water’s surface. 

A startled gasp tumbled from Sam’s lips, his head pivoting frantically while his arms flailed in the water in shock causing splashes in the water around him as he searched his surroundings fighting the disorientated feeling of his grief stricken plunge. 

In his panic he nearly missed catching the glimpse of his brother at the opposite side of the tank. 

“Dean!” He shouted, eyes widening in shock as he gazed at his brother. Dean didn’t look so good, the way he was hanging there, the chain keeping his head and shoulders up out of the water, his body slumped foreword, head lying against his arm. Sam’s heart somersaulted in his chest with worry for his brother, a cold tendril of fear coiling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Dean,” Sam murmured before starting to swim determinedly toward his brother, shoving away the dead bodies that seemed to move in and attempt to block his path along the way. 

Dean’s head jerked slightly hearing his brother’s voice, the sound of it so near as he called his name. Dean’s frozen lips twitched upward at the corners in a half hearted attempt at a smile, wanting to believe the lie. Wanting to believe that Sam was really there with him where he could soak up the heat of his brother’s warm embrace and allow the comforting darkness that beckoned at the edges of his vision to take him under. 

Sam wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist the moment he reached him, pulling his brother’s body against his own at the same time that he struggled to heft Dean higher in the water; his water logged body and clothes making it a near impossible feat. Sam grunted with the effort as he once again fought to hoist Dean higher in the water. His gaze roamed anxiously over Dean’s face taking in his brother’s ashen complexion and the dark bags under his brother’s eyes; the deep blue tinge to his brother’s lips. 

Dean groaned softly, his head lifting up from leaning against his arm only to have it loll forward and fall back as though he lacked the strength to hold it up. 

“No,” Dean slurred softly, his free hand shoving weakly against Sam’s body, “l’mme go…”

Sam’s eyes widened with alarm before he lifted his arm not around Dean’s waist, reaching up, cupping his brother’s face with a trembling hand.

“Dean, Dean, it’s me, it’s okay,” he soothed anxiously. 

Dean’s head lolled back, glazed eyes struggling to focus on his brother. 

“Sammy?” He asked wearily.

Sam’s lips slowly curled into a relieved smile, body shivering with cold. His slid his hand along the side of his brother’s face tenderly. 

“Yeah, Dean, it’s me, it’s me,” he comforted. Leaning in, Sam pressing his quivering lips briefly to Dean in a quick chaste kiss before pulling his head marginally back only to lean in again; kissing his brother’s chin and back along his jaw line, burying his face against Dean’s neck. 

Sam’s warm breath fanned against the delicate skin of Dean’s neck; numbed with cold. His hand against his brother’s face sliding back to cup the back of his brother’s head, digits threading into his brother’s short wet spikes. 

“S-s-scared the he-hell outta me,” Sam confided on a sigh, eyes stinging with tears of relief that his brother was actually still alive. 

Dean’s lips curved upward slightly at the corners, “Heh,” he chuckled weakly, lifting his free hand, throwing his arm around Sam, his hand slapping weakly against his brother’s back. 

His throat convulsed as he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “Can’t… get rid’a me that easy,” Dean mumbled breathlessly. 

Sam lifted his head as he shook it, love filled eyes searching his brother’s face. 

“Don’t ever wa-want to be rid of you,” Sam murmured as he shivered with cold, his words almost too soft to be heard. 

Dean’s gaze met Sam’s and locked, slightly glazed green staring into slightly slanted hazel for a long moment, no words passing between them. Sam’s grip on Dean shifted and tightened marginally, fingertips digging slightly into his brother’s scalp. Dean’s fingers curled into the material of his brother’s shirt as he pressed against Sam with his arm, pulling him closer, holding him tightly, his eyes searching Sam’s.

“Sam!” Jamal called down from the bridge above them. 

Jamal gazed down over the side of the bridge at the Winchesters, giving a heavy sigh of relief seeing both of the still alive. 

Sam slowly tore his gaze away from his brother; Jamal’s call effectively breaking whatever intimate moment that had been brewing between himself and his brother. 

Looking up toward the bridge Sam called back, “We’re okay,” before glancing down at his brother. His eyes roamed over his brother a moment, lips pressing into a thin worried line before he returned his attention to Jamal, “but we need to get Dean outta here, _now_!” 

Dean shook his head as he tugged on Sam with his hand gripping his shirts, gaining his brother’s attention. 

“’M not leaving you down here,” Dean informed stubbornly. 

Sam huffed with annoyance at his brother as his gaze searched his brother’s face. 

“Like hell you aren’t, I’ll be fine,” Sam insisted. “I’ll be up right after you.”

“No,” Dean stated flatly, his tone one that brooked no argument. “You’re not stayin’ down here while I let them pull me up like some damn pansy-ass needing to be rescued, forget it,” he argued. 

Sam scoffed, nostrils flaring, his lips pressed in a thin line of irritation as his eyes tightened angrily.

Dean huffed, “You can give me that look from now until we both freeze to death, the answer’s still no.” 

“Dean, don’t be stupid,” Sam spat. “You can’t --”

Dean’s brow furrowed as he glared at his brother, “I’m not stupid,” he interrupted, eyeing Sam irritably, “stupid,” he retorted.

Sam nodded, lips pressed together as he scowled at his brother, “Oh that was good, Dean,” he snapped. “What are you, five?” He quipped angrily. 

“I’m not five, you’re five,” Dean grumbled sourly, practically pouting. 

Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes at his brother. 

“Great, then what are we supposed to do? Just stay down here forever?” Sam snapped. 

“No,” Dean answered smoothly, “ _You_ are gonna get your ass outta here.”

“Dean,” Sam growled, clenching his teeth in frustrated anger. 

‘Sam,” Dean retorted, his features a mirror image of his brother’s. 

Scoffing, Sam tore his gaze away from Dean’s, his head turning to the side as he closed his eyes in frustration. 

Dean slowly lowered his gaze, his head lolling slightly forward as he sighed softly, allowing himself to rest a moment before he knew he had put his game face back on for his brother’s sake. 

Sam sighed heavily and shook his head as he blinked his eyes open and started to look back at his brother only to pause in his movements, his eyes widening as he stared in shock toward the other end of the pool. 

“Dean,” Sam called softly. 

Dean grunted in acknowledgement that he’d heard his brother as he lifted his head, his gaze intent on Sam’s profile. 

Sam nodded toward where he was looking, not taking his eyes off what he was seeing. 

Dean turned his head; his own eyes widening marginally at the sight of the same woman they had seen behind Kelley earlier standing in the water a few feet away, her attention fixed on the two of them. She floated there in the water, not moving for a long moment, the water only reaching her waist. 

Sam turned in Dean’s arms, releasing his own hold on his brother. Paddling as he continued to tread water, Sam moved himself slightly in front of Dean, using his own body as a shield to protect his brother from the apparition.

“The hell are you lookin’ at, skeevy bitch?” Dean growled cantankerously. 

Brow furrowed, Sam looked incredulously over his shoulder at his brother.

Dean glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye before turning his attention to Sam completely and offering a small shrug, lip quirked slightly at one corner. 

Sam sighed heavily, returning his attention to the apparition which was now moving through the water toward them. 

Sam’s eyes widened as he swallowed hard, lips trembling with cold parting afterward. He spread his arms out at his sides, blocking Dean completely from the ghost as she drew closer. 

“Sam,” Dean murmured apprehensively, his gaze flickering from Sam’s profile to the apparition and back as he moved his free hand to his brother’s side, fingers curling in the wet flannel of his brother’s shirt, tugging at him to move him back out of harm’s way. 

Sam glanced briefly back at Dean before returning his attention to the ghost as she flickered in and out before them. 

“No,” Sam insisted, intent on protecting his brother. 

The apparition flickered in and out as she reached out with both hands, placing one against each of the Winchester’s cheeks gently, her dead sightless eyes looking from one to the other. 

Sam gasped softly, his arms pushing against the water’s pressure, backing him up against his brother in an attempt to better block Dean from whatever the ghost was going to do. 

Dean’s lips parted as he stared at the apparition, brow slowly knitting in confusion before his gaze darted briefly to Sam’s startled profile. 

“Sammy?” Dean inquired.

Sam gave a barely there shake of his head, his own brow furrowing in confusion as he stared at the ghost.

“Help me,” she murmured softly. 

“H-help you?” Sam asked, lips trembling with the cold that seemed to have seeped into his bones. 

The ghost seemed to solidify as she waited for an answer, her head tilting to the side as she regarded Sam before her attention slid to Dean. 

“Help me,” she repeated. 

Dean tore his gaze away from the apparition, looking up toward the bridge above them. 

“Ja-Jamal,” Dean started, about to tell Sam to get out of the way, that he could have Jamal pack this bitch fulla rock salt. 

Sam slowly shook his head as he stared at the ghost, the events and the things he’d seen in visions slowly clicking into place in his head. 

“No, Dean,” he answered gently, watching as the ghost’s eyes swung back over to him. 

Sam slowly nodded to her, “We’re trying to help you,” he explained tentatively. 

The girl’s lips curved slowly upward into a soft smile before her eyes moved back to Dean, waiting.

“The hell is she lookin’ at me like that for?” Dean grumbled, brow furrowing in annoyance. 

“Tell her that you’ll help her,” Sam instructed softly. 

Dean looked over at his brother, “What?” He asked, “Why?”

“Just do it,” Sam insisted, “I’ll explain later.”

Dean scoffed and returned his attention to the ghost, “Yeah, we’re gonna help you,” he agreed. “Course, we’d be a helluva lot better at it if we could get outta here.”

Sam frowned, “Dean,” he scolded. 

“I’m just sayin’,” Dean argued. 

The apparition flickered again, her hands slowly slipping away from their faces. Her gaze rose to the bridge above them before slowly lowering once more to the Winchester’s. 

She lifted a hand, palm out toward Sam and Dean. In the next instant both Winchesters were sent flying back and upward through the air, landing hard; flat on their backs upon the metal bridge. 

Dean groaned in pain as he slowly blinked his eyes open from where they’d been squeezed shut tight in pain from the impact. 

“And she couldn’t have done that to begin with?” He grunted sarcastically as he turned his head, looking over at his brother lying next to him.

Sam groaned in answer as he lifted his head up off the metal beneath them and looked over at his brother. He lifted a hand and reached over, clasping Dean’s forearm, giving it a small squeeze as he allowed his head to fall back against the bridge once more with a pained moan.

“Holy shit!” Jamal exclaimed, looking from the water below now, void of the girls apparition, over to the Winchesters. “That was totally wacked!”

Dean huffed and rolled his eyes as he closed them,” Story of our lives,” he mumbled. 

Jamal knelt beside Dean, shrugging off his leather jacket, “You guys alright, man?” He asked, covering Dean with the jacket. 

Dean’s eyes opened, head lifting off the bridge, looking down at himself as felt the thick leather coat being placed over him. 

Jamal turned his head and looked back at Jesse, “Dude, yer jacket, pass it this way,” he instructed. 

Jesse quickly shrugged off his jacket without question and passed it to Jamal.

Jamal returned his attention to the Winchesters just as Sam sat up and reached over, giving Dean a hand up into a sitting position before he reached for Jamal’s jacket, his hands and body shivering with cold and wrapped the coat around his brother’s shoulder’s. 

Jamal reached over with Jesse’s jacket and draped it over Sam’s shoulders. 

Dean turned his attention to Jamal and gave a nod to his question, “Yeah,” he said, “we’re okay.” 

Jamal returned Dean’s nod, his gaze going between the two, “I hate ta be the one ta say it, but you guys know we need ta get outta here,” he commented. 

Dean nodded with a snort, “Yeah,” he agreed, “definitely ready to get the hell outta here.” 

He turned his head and looked over at his brother, “You okay to get goin’?” Dean asked gently.

Sam gave a nod, “Yeah,” he answered just as softly before slowly climbing to his feet; still shivering. 

Dean gave a small nod and moved to climb to his own feet only to wind up falling back down onto his hands and knees on the metal walkway, his legs refusing to hold him.

“Dean,” Sam gasped, quickly bending next to his brother, one arm wrapping around Dean’s waist as he lifted his brother’s arm closest to him up and over his neck, helping Dean to his feet. 

Sam’s own legs started to wobble as he held his brother up, the two of them shivering with cold. 

“Whoa, guys wait,” Jamal instructed, moving swiftly over to the Winchester’s, pulling Dean’s opposite arm around his neck, wrapping around Dean’s waist. 

“Okay, I got him, Sam,” Jamal said, looking past Dean over at the younger Winchester. 

Sam gave a nod, lips pressed in a thin line of concern, “I-I’m gonna help,” he informed. 

Jamal gave his head a sideways nod, lips curving into a smile as he looked away, “Whatever you say, bro,” he allowed. 

“Jesse,” Jamal said, jutting his chin at him, “help Kelley, we’re getting’ the hell outta here,” he instructed. 

Jesse gave a nod as he looked up at Jamal and the Winchesters before returning his gaze to Kelley, “Come on,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her. 

Standing to her feet, Kelley looked back at Dean, her dark emerald eyes meeting his leaf green ones, lips curling in a soft smile of relief that he was alright. 

Dean gave a nod, his own lips quirking just slightly into a smile in return, watching as she turned with Jamal and started toward the end of the bridge. 

Jamal shook his head, giving a soft chuckle, “Dude, you are the only brotha’ I know who can get the girl while jacked to hell _and_ have the guy too,” he remarked, glancing over at Dean, brows raised. 

Dean’s trembling lips twitched upward at the corners, “Heh, you sh-should see wh-what I can do when I’m not a human popcicle.” 

“You guys got any ideas where we should head to now?” Jamal asked after they’d all been walking for a bit, leaving the bridge and tub of freezing water far behind them. 

“Yeah,” Sam answered, “old places like this should have a boiler room somewhere,” he said thoughtfully, looking over at Jamal, “I think we could all use a little warming up while we regroup.”

Jamal frowned thoughtfully and gave a nod, “Boiler room it is,” he agreed. 

“As cozy _and awkward_ as this is,” Dean said, looking from Sam to Jamal, “I think you guys can let go now, I got this.” 

Jamal rasied his brows,“You sure, bro?” He asked as he eyed Dean, “Cause you still feel like a frozen pop ta me.”

Dean chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, I’m good,” he answered. 

“Dean,” Sam queried, brow furrowing with concern as he looked at his brother. 

Turning his attention to Sam, Dean gazed into his eyes a long moment before giving a nod, “It’s okay,” he assured. “Promise,” he murmured softly. 

Jamal looked over at Sam and gave a nod, “You heard the man,” he sighed as he pulled Dean’s arm from around his neck, his arm slipping from around the elder Winchester’s waist. 

Sam gave Dean a slight frown of disapproval before slowly following Jamal’s example though his arm around his brother’s waist lingered far longer as their eyes met and held a moment. 

“I’m okay, Sammy,” Dean murmured gently, giving a nod. 

Sam wasn’t totally convinced, knowing how cold he still was himself and knowing it had to be worse for Dean. 

“Think I’ll just hold onto you anyway,” he informed, lifting his brows, “problem with that?”

Dean shook his head slowly, “Nah,” he mumbled, tongue darted out, licking across his lips as his eyes dropped to Sam’s before lifting back to meet his brother’s gaze. “You can grope me if you want to,” he teased, lips curving into a slow lascivious smirk. 

Jamal looked over at the Winchesters from the corner of his eye and cleared his throat non too subtly. 

“While I hate ta interupt you two getting’ yer freak on, we kinda need an idea’a ’xactly what we’re lookin’ fer so we know when we find this place,” Jamal drawled, lifting his brows as he turned his head to look over at the Winchesters. 

Sam could feel the blush as it stole over his features before he tore his gaze from Dean, turning his head as he cleared his throat and looked over at Jamal. 

“Uh, well…” he began, brows furrowing thoughtfully before he looked at their surroundings; cobwebs covering most every surface of the dilapidating structure, along with dust and mildew. He wrinkled his nose slightly as he looked back at Jamal and sighed exasperatedly. 

“Well, if this place was in better repair there should be a sign above the door, or on the wall beside it,” he explained, “but since it isn’t…”

“Since it isn’t,” Dean interrupted, “we bust down every damn door as we go and see what’s on the other side.”

Jamal sighed heavily, “Perfect,” he mumbled sarcastically before cocking the shotgun he held in his hands, giving a sideways nod. “Let’s do this then,” he said determinedly, slipping the straps of the other two shotguns off his shoulder, handing one to Sam and one to Dean. 

“Jesse, stay with Kelley,” Jamal commanded as he swirled around, lifting a sneaker covered foot, kicking in the first door, shotgun held in his hands ready to fire at anything that might be lurking inside.

Dean grinned at Sam, “Have I said how much I like him?” He asked with a wide grin before chuckled as he moved to the next door slightly further up and kicking it in. 

Sam watched his brother go a moment as he shook his head, before moving to the door on the opposite side of the hall, lifting a booted foot, kicking the door in. 

They continued down the corridor, ducking under and moving around pipes that ran haphazardly in their path along the way. Jesse remained at Kelley’s side, leading her through the hall after each door was knocked open wide and they were given the signal that it was safe to advance forward. 

Jamal leaned out of the last room he’d kicked the door in and looked over at Sam, “Hey, Sam,” he called. 

“Yeah?” Sam asked as he looked over at Jamal, pausing before the next door. 

“That boiler room’ a yers, would it have a stove lookin’ thing in the center of it?” Jamal asked, lifting his brows. 

Sam turned around to face Jamal and nodded, “Yeah, it would,” he answered, brow furrowing as he frowned in confusion. “Why?”

A slow smile split Jamal’s face, “Cause I think I jus’ found yer crib,” he drawled smoothly. 

Brows raised, Sam started walking toward where Jamal stood. He glanced over at Dean as his brother pulled away from the door he’d been standing in front of. 

Dean met up with his brother as the two of them crossed the distance side by side to the room in which Jamal was still half leaning out of. 

Stopped at the door, Sam leaned into the room slightly, peering around Jamal, his gaze sweeping over the ramshackle room, taking in the rickety old stove sitting in the center. 

Sam nodded and looked away from the room, over at Jamal, lips curving into an impressed smile. He lifted a hand, slapping Jamal on the back as he gave a nod, “This is it,” he agreed. 

Dean looked around the room, lips parted as he searched the interior, eyes lifting to the ceiling and darting about the dilapidated interior, “Definitely not gonna find this in Better Homes and Gardens,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Alright people, let’s go,” Dean instructed, taking a step back from the door, Jamal and Sam following suit; giving Kelley and Jesse room to walk past them and step inside. 

Jamal walked into the room behind Kelley and Jesse, Sam following after him as he continued to survey their surroundings. 

Stepping back up to the door, Dean frowned curiously as the floor beneath his feet creaked and groaned like metal. Bowing his head, Dean looked down and bounced experimentally on the tips of his toes, listening to the sound repeat itself. Scraping a booted foot sideways across the floor, Dean watched as the letters **B** , **I** , **R** and **O O** were uncovered. 

“Huh,” he mused, lifting his head, his eyes searching out and finding his brother. “Hey, Sam,” Dean called. 

Sam spun around looking back at his brother, “Yeah, Dean?”

Dean’s lips curved upward in a smug smirk, “Think I just found your sign,” he commented, pointing down at the floor as he stepped off of it and into the room.

Sam’s gaze lowered to the floor, catching sight of the sign, thickly covered in dust and spider webs except for the area where Dean’s foot had scraped it partly clean. He sighed heavily, shoulders rising and falling, head tilting to one side as he stared at the fallen sign. 

“Great,” he muttered softly. 

Everyone found a seat on the dirty floor, Dean across from Sam near the stove, with Kelley a few feet out in front of it as Jesse sat with her, continuing to rub her arms for warmth underneath Sam’s jacket that she still wore thrown over her shoulders. 

Dean had shrugged on Jamal’s black leather jacket and was seated with his back against one wall and his legs out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. 

Jamal found a seat slightly to one side of the room, a few feet away from Dean, allowing the others to soak up the heat that would be there once Sam got the fire going as the younger Winchester had moved from his position against the wall to kneel before the stove. 

Sam glanced behind him at Kelley, “Hey, Kelley, could you hand me the journal in my coat pocket there?” he asked, turning at the waist and reaching a hand out toward her as she pulled Doctor Dunham’s journal out of Sam’s jacket pocket as he had asked, handing it off to him.

Turning back around, Sam flipped through the pages to the back of the journal and began ripping out pieces of the parchment. 

“Dude,” Dean said, frowning at his brother, “what the hell are you doin’?”

Sam looked up at his brother over his brows, a smile pulling at his lips as he shook his head, “Don’t worry, I’m not ripping out anything we’re gonna need.”

Stuffing the papers into the stove, Sam looked over at his brother.

“Hey, you got your lighter?” He asked, lifting his brows. 

Dean gave a nod and scrunched down against the wall as he slid a hand into his jeans front pocket, digging out his lighter, tossing it to Sam. 

Sam tried unsuccessfully to light it a couple times before he frowned, sighing heavily in irritation. 

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked; brow furrowed in annoyance. 

“You got it wet,” Sam grumbled, “it’s not gonna work now.”

Dean stared incredulously at his brother, “Of course I got it wet,” he scoffed, “man falls in a tank of freezing water, you think his lighter is gonna stay dry?” 

Jamal chuckled, grinning wide, showing rows of straight white teeth, “Look in the outside side pocket’a my jacket, man,” he said, lifting a hand, pointing at the pocket in which he spoke of, “I usually keep me a lighter in there.”

Dean reached into the pocket and pulled out a lighter, passing it to Sam. 

The lighter lit on the first try. Reaching a hand into the stove, Sam caught the paper ablaze and quickly pulled his hand back, closing the metal door on the front of the stove. He leaned toward Dean, passing him the lighter back before scooting backward across the floor to his former spot against the wall. 

After returning the lighter to Jamal’s pocket, Dean’s gaze met Sam’s and held for a long moment before he spoke. 

“So, you wanna tell me why you had me promise one of the resident evil bitches that we’d help her?” Dean asked, quirking a brow. 

“She isn’t evil,” Sam corrected, “she’s lost and scared. The ghosts of the patients aren’t the problem here,” he sighed, “well, they’re not the main problem anyway.”

“Remember how every time she’s appeared in one form or another she’s only asked for help,” said Sam pointedly. 

“And tried to molest us,” Dean retorted.

“Molesting isn’t killing,” Sam pointed out. 

“So what are we dealing with here?” Dean asked before lifting his brows, “Doctor Kilroy?”

Sam shook his head, “I’m not sure,” he muttered, brow furrowed thoughtfully, “I don’t think it’s the doctor though,” he remarked, “remember the black inky fog?” Sam reminded his brother before dropping his gaze, staring off at some point on the floor as he thought about it. 

“I saw men in short white coats,” Sam explained as he lifted his gaze back to Dean‘s face. 

“Little white coats?” Dean asked, “In an asylum?” He shook his head, eyes widing in mock astonishment. “Shocking, Sam,” Dean quipped sarcastically. 

Jamal let out a bark of laughter and Jesse and Kelley snickered as they looked from Sam to Dean. 

Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes before he frowned thoughtfully. 

“I’m serious, Dean, I told you when the doctor had me, I didn’t feel like he meant to _hurt_ me,” Sam reminded.

“Right, tryin’ to turn you into Kentucky Fried chicken means friendship to Doc Dunham and,” Dean paused thoughtfully, “ _you_ , I guess.”

Sam huffed, “I didn’t say that, I just mean… I think he really thought he was helping me.”

“Okay, Sam,” Dean allowed patronizingly, “let’s say you’re right and the doctor’s a saint and the patients are innocent, but if that’s the case, then what the hell is goin’ on here?”

Sam scowled at his brother before lowering his attention to the journal in his lap, flipping through pages before pausing on one that held his interest.

“Huh,” Sam mumbled, glancing up at his brother, “listen to this,” he said. 

“I went into the catacombs today and what I found there chilled me to the very bone. I know now that my patients are not safe, that I am not safe, no one is. But there is no way for me to stop this; not without bringing about more suffering and death, perhaps even my own. I am going to move some of my things into my office and bring a cot; at least then I will be here when my patients need me,” Sam read aloud. 

Dean’s brow knitted in confusion, “Catacombs, we never saw any catacombs.”

“We never saw the room with that tank either, doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” Sam pointed out. 

Sighing heavily Dean nodded, “Okay, I guess we need to go searching for these catacombs,” he agreed. 

Sam closed the journal, returning his brother’s nod, “I think it’s our best bet to figuring this out.”

“I just hope we don’t run into any more of the ghosts along the way,” Kelley muttered.

Sam turned his attention to Kelley, “I don’t think we need to worry about them anymore,” he glanced back at his brother before returning his gaze to her. “They finally got the answer that they’d been looking for,” he sighed and laid his head back on the wall behind him, turning it to look across the stove at his brother. 

“I think they’re satisfied for now,” he added as he settled back against the wall intent on relaxing and getting warmed up a little before they had to set out again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

They remained in the boiler room resting and trying to soak up as much of the warmth that the fire provided as possible until the last ember burned out and the stove was left cold. Only then did they slowly climb to their feet one by one and head out of the room as a group in search of the catacombs that Doctor Dunham spoke of in his journal. 

“These catacombs would be in a lower level, right? Like under us somewhere?” Jesse asked as they walked.

Sam looked over at Jesse and gave a nod, “Yeah, they should be somewhere below the asylum,” he agreed.

Jesse sighed in exasperation as he slowly shook his head, “Dude, we’ve been walking around this place for I don’t know how long now and we haven’t found so much as a ladder, let alone a stairwell leading down anywhere,” he pointed out. “Maybe the Doc was crazy,” he suggested. 

Sam pressed his lips together, brow knitting thoughtfully before he shook his head. 

“No, I don’t think so, there has to be a way down… somewhere,” he insisted. 

Jesse huffed and lifted a hand running it through his hair, “If you say so, man,” he mumbled. 

The corridors twisted and turned, pipes and metal reinforcement beams leaning haphazardly within their path, forcing them to climb over them at times and other times to duck or crawl under the low hanging metal fixtures in order to continue forward through the older section of the asylum where dust, decay and spiders reigned supreme. 

Hours passed as they continued onward finally coming to the end of the hall where the path forked to the left and right. In each direction the walls were no longer old and fading, half chipped away brick but rather cement with dark colored pipes in a cluster running along the side. 

“The hell?” Dean asked, frowning in confusion. 

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Sam mumbled as he looked from one direction to the other, brow furrowed curiously. 

“This is some seriously jacked up shit,” Jamal muttered softly as he looked around them. 

“What is it, where are we?” Kelley asked anxiously. 

Sam’s lips curved down into a thoughtful frown as he shook his head, “Not really sure,” he answered before looking over at his brother. 

Dean looked over at Sam and quirked a brow, their gazes meeting as he lifted both brows, “Let’s check it out,” Dean suggested with a one shouldered shrug. 

“Uh,” Dean began as he looked down the hall one way and then the other before returning his attention to his brother, “which way?”

Sam shrugged, “I dunno, what do you think?”

“Flip a coin?” Dean suggested. 

Sam frowned carelessly and nodded, “Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

“What?” Kelley nearly shouted incredulously. “You’re gonna decide our fate by the flip of a coin?”

Dean and Sam looked over at her both nonplussed by her outburst. 

“Yeah,” Dean answered apathetically with another shrug, “it’s how we always do it,” he explained before frowning thoughtfully. “That or rock, paper, scissors,” he looked over at Sam, brow furrowing questioningly, “But that doesn’t fit here,” he said, lifting his brows at his brother in silent question.

Sam shook his head in agreement that rock, paper, scissors would not work here. 

Dean returned his attention to Kelley, flashing a wide grin before looking back over at Sam, jutting his chin at him as Dean flipped the coin, “Call it in the air,” he directed. 

“Heads,” Sam quickly said, watching as his brother caught the quarter. 

Dean huffed in annoyance, “Heads,” he nodded. 

“We go left,” Sam surmised, turning around and heading in the direction behind him, Dean following after him. 

Jamal rolled his eyes heavenward, “And this is why the brotha always dies in these situations,” he mumbled under his breath as he shook his head before lowering his gaze and following after the Winchesters. 

Kelley looked over at Jesse, her eyes wide with disbelief before the two of them started after the others.

They walked for a while, no one saying much, Sam, Dean and Jamal leading the way through the tunnel-like corridor. 

“I ever tell you two why Amityville would’a lasted only five minutes if’n that’a been a black family?” Jamal asked, glancing over at Sam and Dean. 

Sam smirked and turned his attention to Jamal, shaking his head. 

Dean’s brow knitted in disbelief as he looked over at Jamal, “You know that’s a hoax, right?” he asked. 

Jamal waved his free hand, “Doesn’ matter, point remains,” he insisted. 

Dean frowned, “Okay, why would Amityville have only lasted five minutes?” Dean asked, quirking a brow.

“Cause if’n there’s ever a voice in our crib that says, ‘get out’, ain’t no black family gonna stick around for that,” he answered with a sage nod, “we’d’a been outta there faster than the devil could’a gotten his next thought out. He can have the damn place,” he answered earnestly.

Dean snorted out a small chuckle and glanced over at Sam’s smiling face. His eyes roamed over his brother’s features a moment, noting how his wide smile caused his dimples to show and how beautiful he was when he smiled like that. Clearing his throat Dean tore his gaze from Sam and looked back over at Jamal, lifting his free hand, slapping his friend on the back as he chuckled. 

“We could do with a few more like you, Jamal,” Dean muttered, “it’d make what we do a helluva lot easier.” 

Jamal chuckled, eyeing the two Winchesters for a moment before returning his attention ahead of them. 

The three of them halted in their tracks a few moments later, all of them with their attention focused downward. 

“Uh, hey Jesse,” Dean called before lifting his head and looking back at him, “I think we just found that stairwell you were talkin’ about,” he remarked, lifting his brows as his lips quirked upward at the corners in a forced smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. 

Dean lifted his gaze to Sam’s face as they all stood around the narrow stairway, looking down into the darkness of the catacombs. It was obvious that they could only go down one at a time, but they needed to decide what order they were going to do it in as well as the fact that they were going to need flashlights. 

“I’ll go first, then Kelley and Jesse, you and Jamal?” Dean asked, lifting his brows. 

Sam frowned, “What? No,” he spat, “I’m not letting you go down there and then coming down last.”

“You’re not last,” Dean corrected, glancing at Jamal with a smirk before returning his attention to Sam, “Jamal is,” he stated, “you’re second to the last,” he said with a wide grin. 

Sam scoffed in annoyance, scowling at his brother.

Dean’s eyes slid to Jamal as he nodded at Sam, “You see that look?” He asked, “I gotta deal with that all the time,” he complained exaggeratedly. 

Jamal chuckled softly and shook his head, “Dude, I ain’t getting’ involved in no lover’s spat,” he said, holding his hands up, “sorry, bro.” 

Dean huffed and returned his attention to Sam, “See?” Dean asked, “You’re upsettin’ Jamal, so cut it out,” he commanded sarcastically, eliciting another chuckle from Jamal. 

Sam pressed his lips together in a thin line of irritation as he regarded his brother. 

“You love me and you know it,” said Dean with a Cheshire grin as he eyed his brother. 

Sam huffed softly, lowering his gaze as he shook his head, “Yeah,” he agreed, “I do, but I dunno why,” he muttered, glancing up at Dean from under his brows. 

Dean’s smile slid away, replaced by a pouting scowl as his eyes narrowed on his brother. 

Jamal threw back his head with a bark of laughter. He shook his head as he slowly lowered it, looking at the Winchesters. 

“If you two are done smack talkin’ each other, let’s get this show on the road, eh?” Jamal suggested; brows raised quizzically. 

Dean gave a nod, “Works for me,” he agreed. “Wait,” he muttered as his attention darted to Sam. He jutted his chin at his brother, “You got your flashlight, Sammy?”

Sam frowned thoughtfully and looked over at Kelley, “Uh, inside pocket of my jacket?” He asked her, waiting as Kelley searched the jacket, pulling out Sam’s LED flashlight, handing it to him. 

Dean gave a nod of approval, “Could do with having another one, but…”

Jamal frowned pensively, “Uh, look in the inside right hand pocket, I might have a mini one in there.”

Dean’s brows lifted as he held open one side of the jacket, rummaging around the inside pocket, searching for a flashlight and finally pulled out a small pocket one, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips. 

“Hey, alright,” he said with a wide grin as he nodded, looking down at the light in his hands, clicking it on. He stepped around the steps so he could climb down, his gaze lifting to Sam’s face, a silent message passing between them; Sam telling Dean to be safe and Dean letting Sam know he’d be alright. 

His lips twitched upward at the corners in a warm small smile before he dropped his gaze and started down the narrow stairwell, shot gun in one hand, Jamal’s flashlight in the other, lighting his way. 

As Dean made his way lower into the bowels of the asylum, things only seemed to get more and more ramshackle; the scent of dank earth and decay stinging his nostrils. The walls of the catacombs were crumbling white stucco and beneath his feet, he realized as he stepped off the last stair, the floor was merely thick rich soil. 

His head pivoted as he surveyed the area around him, shining Jamal’s small flashlight in each direction searching for any dangers. Satisfied that everything seemed clear, Dean looked up the stairs, shining the flashlight up toward the others.

“Okay,” he called up to them, giving a nod. 

Sam and Jamal looked back at Kelley and waved her forward. 

“Okay, Kelley,” Sam mumbled softly, “you’re next.”

One by one they all made their way down, Kelley, then Jesse, followed by Sam and lastly Jamal. 

“This is some messed up shit down here,” Jamal remarked as he looked around them. 

Sam paused in surveying their surroundings, flashlight illuminating the darkness of the area. Looking over at Jamal, brows raised, Sam gave a heavy sigh before nodding.

“Yeah, you could definitely say that,” he agreed. 

“Yeah, well, if you ladies are done pickin’ out curtains for the place,” Dean quipped, jerking his head to the side, “it looks like we need to go this way.”

Sam and Jamal exchanged a look before turning their attention to Dean, only to find that he was already starting off down the subterranean tunnel; the beam from his flashlight bouncing off the once white walls. 

“This place is creepy as hell,” Kelley muttered, leaning in closer to Jesse as they followed after Dean, Sam and Jamal. 

Jesse glanced over at her as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her up against his side. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, eyes scanning the area around them warily. “You can say that again.”

Sam paused in his steps as they started to pass what appeared to be a room off to the right of them on his side of the tunnel. 

“Hold up a minute?” He mumbled, changing direction and heading into the crude make-shift room, ducking his head as he passed under the low archway. 

Dean halted in his steps, glancing over at Jamal, brows raised pointedly before he turned his attention back to the room, following his brother inside. 

Jamal glanced over at Kelley and Jesse before walking into the room behind Sam, glancing back with a frown at the low opening. 

Against one wall just inside the chamber sat a very crude and very old worship alter, pentagrams and old ancient magical symbols etched into wood and stone sat upon its surface. The stink of rotting flesh and death was enough to sting a person’s sinus cavities and the sound of flying, buzzing insects was nearly deafening as they flew around the countless human and animal bones that littered the floor around them.

“Sweet Jesus!” Jamal exclaimed softly as he took in the area around them.

Dean’s gaze lifted from where he’d been looking at the alter meeting Jamal’s eyes. Lifting his brows he watched as Jamal nodded to him before Dean gave a small nod of his own and lowered his gaze, turning his attention to the rest of the room. 

“Oh God, oh my God…” Kelley cried softly, lifting a hand and cupping it over her mouth, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

“Holy hell,” Jesse gasped softly as he looked around the small make-shift room. 

Sam lifted his head, having been looking down at the bodies around them, his gaze darting over to Kelley and Jesse. 

“You two okay?” He asked sympathetically, knowing it had to be a lot for someone who wasn’t use to this kind of thing to take in, even with the deaths that had happened upstairs. 

Kelley swallowed a whimper and nodded, her lips pressed together in a thin line, though the way she trembled was evident even across the room only lit by flashlights. 

“Ugh, I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jesse mumbled, lifting a hand to cup his mouth and nose. 

Sam gave Kelley a small nod, offering a small tightlipped encouraging smile before his gaze rose to Jesse. 

“Smile,” he instructed. “It blocks the gag reflex,” Sam explained with a nod. 

Sam was just about to turn and walk over to his brother when the deep inhuman growl that suddenly echoed through the room stopped him in his tracks. His eyes widened in shock, his attention snapping to his brother only to find Dean staring back at him, his brother’s features a mirror image of his own. 

Tearing his gaze from Sam, Dean shined the flashlight around them, searching for the source of whatever had made that sound. 

Sam turned and started to walk further back into the room, shining the flashlight before him as he surveyed the area, determined to find out what it was that had caused the strange and rather eerie growling racket.

“Okay, that was weird,” Kelley whimpered, eyes wide with fear. 

“Ya think?” Jamal quipped as his gaze swung over to Kelley, staring at her incredulously.

“Okay, that was the ‘get out’ I was waitin’ for,” Jamal informed Sam and Dean as he looked over at them, “this brotha needs ta high tail it on outta here now,” he said, eyes darting between the two Winchesters, though neither one seemed to be paying him any attention. 

Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion as he reached the back of the room, his attention falling on what appeared to be freshly laid bricks forging a makeshift wall in front of the decaying stucco. Glancing back over his shoulder at his brother, Sam slung the strap to the rifle he held over his head then switched hands in which he held the flashlight. Reaching out with his now free hand, Sam tugged at one of the bricks, fingertips turning white as he gripped it and tugged hard in an attempt to dislodge the brick from its position. 

At first nothing happened other than the sound of brick scratching against brick, however after Sam gave yet another pull, the brick slipped free, the pile toppling to the ground noisily eliciting the others attention.

The light of Dean’s flashlight joined Sam’s own as what was behind the crumbling wall was revealed. There before them hung Monica’s naked body, her chest split open, the skin and muscle of one side having been cut away exposing ribs, heart and lung while the opposite side remained perfectly intact. Her stomach had been sliced open, entrails pulled out and strewn down onto the floor. The picks that the doctor had rammed into her eyes, lobotomizing her remained and seemed to be what she hung from the wall from as the picks had been pushed through her ocular cavity and out the back of her head. 

Flies and other insects buzzed about her rotting corpse, maggots crawling amongst the coils of her intestine on the ground below her. 

Kelley’s scream echoed through the room as she stared in terror at Monica’s remains. 

Sam gagged and squeezed his eyes closed, quickly turning his head away, gulping in breaths and swallowing hard against the bile rising in his throat. 

Jesse turned abruptly, hand covering his mouth and all but ran from the room toward the outer tunnel. 

“Sweet Lord Jesus…” Jamal gasped, eyes wide with shock and horror. 

“Sonuva…” Dean breathed, standing just behind his brother, face twisting in disgust, appalled by what he saw as he stared wide eyed at the young woman’s body. 

Kelley lifted her hands, cupping them over her mouth and nose, tears spilling over from her wide eyes as she slowly backed away from the corpse, her gaze remaining laser focused on it despite her horror. Items clanked and wood groaned as she clumsily bumped into the alter behind her, one hand automatically lowering to brace herself, hand gripping the edge of the alter. 

Dean turned abruptly toward the sound of items clattering, his flashlight beam aimed at Kelley as she frowned in confusion, releasing the table bringing her hand up toward her face to look at it only to scream at the blood that covered her palm. 

“Kelley!” Dean called out to her, eyes widening marginally at her scream, the beam of his light catching the crimson smear on her palm just before she spun around toward the alter and began backing away, trembling with fear. 

Dean rushed toward her and the alter, Sam following directly behind him as Jamal stepped up behind Kelley, wrapping an arm protectively around her, eliciting another scream to tumble from her lips. 

“Sh-sh, it’s okay,” Jamal soothed softly. 

Kelley turned in Jamal’s embrace, her face crumbling as she threw her arms around him. 

Jamal’s eyes met Dean as he gave a nod, “I got ’er,” he assured before lowering his head, whispering reassurances to Kelley. 

At Jamal’s words, Dean turned his focus on the alter and the puddle of blood on its edge. Turning his attention to his brother Dean shook his head, jaw clenched. 

“This wasn’t here before,” he informed Sam.

Sam’s brow furrowed as he looked at the blood before he turned his gaze on his brother. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure!” Dean spat, I stood right frickin’ here just a minute ago and that wasn’t there!”

Out in the hall Jesse gulped in breaths as he looked around himself. He knew it wasn’t his smartest move coming out here alone, but he’d had to get away from Monica’s body. He had never done well with gore. Maybe it was sissy of him, some of the guys use to tell him it was, but he couldn’t help it. He just sucked at dealing with anything disgusting; hell the sight of blood had him close to fainting most times. 

He was about to walk back into the chamber with the others when a strange light at the other end of the tunnel caught his attention and had him frowning, brow furrowing as he struggled to be able to see. 

“Hello?” He called, “Is someone down there?” 

“Jesse, it’s me, please… I want you…” the female voice called back seductively. 

Jesse squinted into the darkness, “Amber?” he asked, brow knitted in confusion. 

“Jesse please…. **help me** ….”

Jesse glanced toward the opening to the chamber, indecision warring within him. 

“I’m probably gonna regret this,” he mumbled under his breath to himself, sighing heavily before he started to jog down the tunnel toward the sound of Amber’s voice. 

Sam blew out a breath as he turned at the waist looking around them as Dean turned in the opposite direction doing the same. 

The feeling of something wet dripping onto him and running down his forehead had Sam lifting a hand to wipe at his brow as he frowned in confusion. Lifting his wet hand, he shined the flashlight on his fingers revealing them to be covered in blood. 

“Dean,” Sam called, his eyes widening as he stared at the blood on his hand. 

Dean turned toward his brother, shining his light on him, eyes widening with concern seeing the smeared blood on his brother’s forehead. 

“Are you hur-?” Dean started only to let his sentence drop as Sam shook his head. His eyes lowered to Sam’s hand and the blood smudged across his fingers. 

“It dropped on me,” Sam muttered before lifting his head and looking over at his brother. 

Dean slowly tilted his head back, shining his flashlight upward at the ceiling. A long lone of blood trailed over to the alter; droplets falling along its path. He shined his light along the path of blood which ended at the crease between ceiling and wall in a wide pool at the back of the room, near where they had found Monica’s body. 

“Sonvua…” Dean mumbled in shock just before the inhuman growl sounded throughout the chamber once again. 

Kelley shrieked and clutched at Jamal, burrowing against him in fear. 

Lowering the flashlight beam, Dean glanced over at his brother before turning his attention to the alter, his gaze roaming over the contents on the table. 

“What the hell is this, satanic?” Dean asked through clenched teeth. 

Sam turned as his brother did, surveying the alter. He gave a nod to Dean’s question, “Some of this stuff is ancient, but yeah, I think so,” he agreed. 

Dean reached across the alter, gripping the back of the table. With a growl, Dean gave the alter a hard tug, causing the old rickety, half dilapidated table to topple over, sending the items that had been sitting upon its surface crashing to the floor with a loud clatter; some of them breaking and shattering against the earthen floor. 

“This is all starting to make sense now,” Sam gasped in shock. 

“It is?” Dean asked incredulously. 

“What Doctor Dunham found when he came down here and what he said before about others hurting his patients, the short white coats I saw,” Sam explained. “It’s the orderlies or guards,” he shook his head, “whatever you want to call them, it doesn’t matter, point is, they are the ones who’ve been doing this,” he blinked as he stared at the flashlight illuminated fallen alter. 

“They must have been worshiping the devil down here and the patients…”

“Their sacrifice?” Dean spat. 

Sam nodded, “Yeah, I think so,” Sam agreed. “It would explain all the bodies,” he said, shining his flashlight at the skeletal remains around them. 

“Great, just friggin’ great,” Dean growled. “So, how do we get rid of them?” He asked. 

Sam shook his head, “We would need to know what happed to their remains,” he sighed in defeat. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Goddammit!” Dean barked, “There has to be a way to get rid of them,” he insisted. “What does the Doc say?”

Sam sighed and pulled the journal from the pocket of Jesse’s jacket that he still wore, “I don’t think we’re gonna find anything in here, Dean,” he said as he opened the journal and shined the flashlight down at the pages. 

Jesse walked down the tunnel following Amber’s voice into a small cell type room with a small cot and a lone chair inside, the metal door sitting swung open wide. 

“Amber?” Jesse called softly. “Amber where are you? We thought you were dead…”

Inky black mist slowly seeped into the room behind Jesse, slamming the door closed. 

Jesse jumped at the sound of the door swinging closed with a loud bang behind him. Whirling around, his eyes widened at the sight of the closed door. He rushed over to it, struggling to open it, but the door refused to budge. 

“Help! Somebody help me!” Jesse called. “Sam! Dean! Jamal! Somebody, anybody!” 

“I’ll help you, Jesse,” Amber’s soft sultry voice sounded directly behind him.

Jesse spun back around, a scream tearing from his throat as the black ink-like mass loomed over him; Amber’s seductively smiling face etched into the swirling goo. 

Jesse was abruptly thrown across the room, his body crashing hard against the opposite wall, his wire rimmed glasses bending with the impact, sitting askew on his nose.

As soon as his body fell in a heap to the floor he was tossed again, his back slamming down against the thin cot mattress, body held motionless by demonic power. 

Amber’s lips in the black inky mass quirked upward lasciviously as the goo loomed over him. 

Jesse’s heart thundered in his chest, his breaths coming hard and heavy with his absolute terror as he stared up at Amber’s face in the inky fog. 

“No, please,” he begged. “Amber let me go, make it stop!” He insisted, struggling against the viselike demonic hold. 

His gaze swung away from her toward the door, “Help me!!! Somebody help me!!!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, his face turning red, tendon in his neck bulging with the effort. 

Amber’s voice made ‘tsking’ noises, “Oh no, Jesse,” she corrected, “this is where I get to have a little fun,” she informed him beguilingly, her voice soft and smooth like silk. 

Jesse’s eyes darted back to her, back to the black goo, his wide brown eyes meeting the glowing red ones within the sludge. 

“No,” he pleaded, “no, Amber please… please let me go… make this stop,” he said as he panted with fear. 

“Make it stop?” She asked, “Who stopped my death, Jesse? Who saved me?” She asked. “None of you,” she answered her own question. “It’s alright though, this is so much better than living… and now; we want _you_ ,” she practically purred.

Jesse’s eyes widened, breaths hitching in his throat as he shook his head vigorously, struggling hard against the demonic hold keeping him immobile. 

The button of Jesse’s jeans popped open, drawing his attention down his body as he watched the zipper slide open. His wide eyes snapped back up to Amber’s face within the fog, watching as her red eyes filled with wicked lecherous promise rising to meet his own. 

“No,” he breathed fearfully. “No!” He shouted before turning his head toward the door, “Help!!! Guys please help me!!!” 

His head rolled back, attention snapping back to the inky mass a second before a gag was suddenly shoved into his mouth at the same moment that his jeans and briefs were jerked down. 

Jesse started to scream against the gag only to feel his tongue being sliced open, blood seeping from between his lips and running in thick rivulets down his chin. 

He was tossed from the bed into the nearby chair, his arms against the backing of the chair by demonic power, legs spread; thighs wide. 

Jesse sobbed against the razorblade gag, blood gushing down his chin as his tongue was sliced to ribbons. 

Amber’s voice tsked again as the dark fog loomed over him, “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, Jesse,” she spat softly. “But then, I’m not the first person to ever tell you that, am I?” She purred with malicious pleasure. 

A railroad spike was suddenly slammed downward, piercing through Jesse’s balls and the tip of his flaccid dick. The scream that tore from his throat inducing large quantities of blood to gush down his chin as his tongue was severed. His body trembled in fear, shock and pain as he bled out through his wounds. Jesse’s body slowly slumped in the chair before tumbling face down onto the floor as the demonic hold released him.

Pain sliced through Sam’s skull causing the journal to tumble from his hands before he lifted a hand to his face, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes closed, lips parting as his breaths quickened. 

Dean’s eyes widened as he stared worriedly at his brother, “Sammy?” He barked the inquiry. 

“It’s Jesse,” Sam grunted painfully as images of Jesse’s death flashed before his eyes. “He’s dead,” Sam groaned, stagger stepping backward. 

Jamal released Kelley, walking around her toward the Winchesters as Dean reached out, grabbing hold of his brother, one hand fisting in the fabric of Sam’s shirts in the front, the other reaching up to cup the side of his face. 

“Dead?” Dean asked, “How? What happened?”

Sam’s throat convulsed as he swallowed hard, head turning to the side, his breaths panting out with his pain; his hand at the bridge of his nose moving, the heel of his hand pressing against his forehead. 

“Uh, Amber,” he muttered, “he heard Amber, but it was the fog…” 

Dean’s stared incredulously at his brother, “The inky black mass? Not Amber?”

Sam shook his head as he turned it, forcing his eyes open to small pain filled slits, his nose bleeding down his face. 

“It’s the orderlies, Dean,” Sam said, “they’ve taken over, forcing the patients to do what they wanted out of fear.” 

As Jamal stepped closer a low demonic voice spoke throughout the room. 

**“Where ya goin’, _boy_**

The next instant Jamal went flying across the room, his body slamming back against the far wall. 

Jamal cried out as they sound of a whip snapping filled the air followed by the sickening thwack of it connecting with flesh. 

“Jamal,” Sam breathed softly, his cracked open eyes filled with concern. 

Dean turned, his hand releasing his brother’s shirts as his opposite slipped down from his face, teeth clenched together in anger. 

“Alright you demonic, sonuvabitch,” Dean growled, readying his shotgun. 

In the next instant Dean was tossed across the room, his back smacking hard against the wall as once again the sound of a whip striking flesh filled the room. Dean cried out from between gritted teeth, his t-shirt ripping where the invisible whip had impacted across his chest.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, panic and worry for his brother evident in his voice. Sam stagger stepped forward, one hand held against his throbbing head, his breaths coming in harsh pants, teeth clenched with determination and anger at what had lashed out at his brother. 

Kelley screamed as she was suddenly picked up off the floor and thrown nearly across the full length of the room, her body slamming into the wall, read rolling to the side, eyes closed as she hung there unconscious. 

Sam paused in his steps as he heard Kelley scream and looked back over his shoulder toward where she had been standing just in time to see her body connect with the wall. 

“Ke--” Sam started only to end up being tossed in the opposite direction, slamming face first up against the wall across from his brother. A pain filled hoarse cry tore from Sam’s lips as the sound of tearing cloth filled the room. 

“Sammy!” Dean called, his eyes glued to the five deep bloody claw marks that appeared across his brother’s flesh. 

“Dean!” Sam grunted as he struggled to roll onto his back against the demonic hold pinning him face flat against the wall. Finally he managed to force himself over, his ripped open back flopping hard against the wall. A growled cry of agony tore from his throat, teeth clenched in pain with the effort of turning.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

“Sam!” Dean called to his brother, his gaze on Sam’s blood smeared face as his nose continued to bleed. 

The rough stucco dug into the gashes on Sam’s back as he struggled against the demonic hold that seemed intent on crushing him against the wall. 

“Dean,” Sam grunted hoarsely, his voice laced with pain. 

Dean struggled against the supernatural force that held him immobile, teeth clenched; tendon in his neck protruding with the effort, his head tilting back, a growl of frustration tore from his throat. 

The sound of a whip cracking sounded throughout the room over and over in quick succession eliciting a growled cry of pain first from Jamal followed by Dean as the material of his shirt was once more ripped open, blood seeping from wounds across his flesh that quickly welted up. 

“Dean,” Sam growled, teeth clenched as he struggled, fingertips pressing into the wall behind him, the heels of his boots scraping against the stucco as he fought to free himself. His eyes squeezed closed, head tilting back on a strangled cry of agony tore from his throat as another cluster of claw marks appeared across his chest up to his shoulder, blood spilling from each gash. 

He panted harshly through parted lips, eyes opening to mere pain filled slits. 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…” Sam began weakly; his words faltering as suddenly all four of them were released; falling to the ground ceremoniously. 

Before anyone could move Sam was tossed, his body slamming against the far wall as the inhuman growl thundered throughout the room. 

A tortured grunt spilled from Sam’s lips as his body impacted with the wall before he fell to the floor in a heap. 

Dean and Jamal slowly rose off the floor on their hands and knees, their attention snapping to Sam as he landed limply onto the floor. 

“Sammy!” Dean shouted fearfully as he struggled to his feet, stumble stepping forward a few steps before managing to get his bearings, rushing over to his brother’s side. 

Kelley blinked in confusion as she slowly rose from the ground, brow furrowed as her gaze moved over the others; her hand lifting to the deep gashes across her stomach, her face twisting in pain as she struggled to her feet. 

Jamal climbed to his feet a second after Dean had started toward Sam, making his way wearily over to the Winchesters. 

Dean pulled Sam’s seemingly unconscious body into his arms, cradling his head as his gazed moved over his brother’s features worriedly. 

“Sammy?” Dean whispered with shock, one hand lifting to cup the side of his brother’s face before sliding up and brushing back Sam’s bangs from his forehead. 

Jamal crouched beside Dean, his gaze on Sam before he looked over at Dean and lifted a hand to his shoulder. 

“C’mon, man, we need ta get outta here,” Jamal said softly, nodding toward Sam, “I’ll give ya hand with him,” he added, his hand on Dean’s shoulder moving to pat Dean gently on the back. 

Tearing his attention from the Winchesters, Jamal looked over at Kelley, “How you doin’?” he asked her with an encouraging nod, “Can you walk?”

Kelley nodded, her body trembling with pain and fear, “Y-Yeah, I - I can make it,” she said, offering Jamal a small slight smile, a mere twitching upward of the corners of her lips. 

Jamal nodded, returning his attention to Dean as he reached for Sam. 

Dean’s eyes rose to Jamal’s as he reached for Sam, green meeting dark brown. 

“You lead, bro,” said Jamal, “whatever you need,” he gave a nod, “I’ll do.” 

Dean returned Jamal’s nod, jaw clenching as he reached for one side of Sam, allowing Jamal to take the other as they struggled to get him to his feet. 

Sam gasped in a breath as he was sat up, his eyes blinking open, though his head lolled a bit before stabilizing as he turned toward Dean. 

“Dean,” he murmured weakly. 

Dean’s lips twitched upward briefly as his gaze met his brother’s, “Friggin’ show off,” he mumbled with a huff, shaking his head. 

Sam sighed exhaustedly allowing his eyes to slip closed, tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

“I just thought,” he started only to pause as he swallowed, “that maybe the exorcism,” he stopped and shook his head brow furrowing thoughtfully before he reopened his eyes, gazing at his brother. “I dunno…”

Dean snorted and sighed heavily, “When did you memorize it?” 

Sam’s lips quirked upward slightly, “I didn’t… not all of it,” he gave a small shrug of one shoulder, “that was all I knew.”

Dean pressed his lips together and sighed heavily, eyeing his brother a moment before lifting his gaze to Jamal, giving a nod for him to help pull Sam to his feet. 

Dean and Jamal slowly pulled Sam to his feet though at the last minute Sam’s head jerked back, teeth gritting together, a low growl of agony tearing from his throat, eyes squeezed tightly closed, his grip on Dean and Jamal’s arms tightening, fingertips and knuckles turning white with his grip as he clung to them as visions of the asylum bombarded his brain non-stop. Blood flowed from Sam’s nose in thick rivulets, across his lips and down his chin before his lips parted to gulp in pained breaths. 

“Dean,” Sam entreated.

“Sammy,” Dean breathed, eyes wide, lips pulled in a tight line as he gazed at Sam in fearful concern. 

“It’s, it’s the entire place, Dean… they suffered… all of them…” Sam muttered breathlessly before another growl of pain tore from his throat, teeth gritting together, the blood pouring down from his nose staining their white hue pink.

“What?” Dean asked in confusion, brow furrowing in frustration. 

“Nightmare,” Sam panted, “it was a nightmare… the - the patients wound up unclothed, starved, and sleeping in raw sewage… padded cells, restraining devices, solitary confinement, beatings, lobotomies,” Sam said, pausing a moment as his throat convulsed, “the electric shock,” he shook his head slightly, “more… so much more…” 

Dean’s gaze lifted, meeting Jamal’s across Sam as his jaw clenched, muscle twitching, nostrils flaring. He lowered his eyes back to his brother as he moved his free hand, getting a better grip around Sam. 

“Okay, alright, we’re getting’ outta here,” he informed, his attention snapping up to Jamal before he turned his head, looking over at Kelley, “NOW!” he snapped forcefully before starting to half drag, half help his brother walk toward the archway of the chamber. 

“How are we getting’ out?” Jamal asked, “We’re locked in, you said so yourself,” he reminded. 

Dean grit his teeth so hard it was a wonder he wasn’t breaking any, the muscle in his jaw twitching, lips pressed together in a determined line, “If I can’t find their bones to burn individually, I’ll burn the whole fuckin’ place to the ground,” he growled. 

His attention snapped to Kelley, “In Sam’s jacket pockets,” he told her with a nod, “salt and lighter fluid, give me those,” he instructed. 

Kelley scrambled to do as Dean said, finding the box of sea salt in one pocket, the bottle of lighter fluid in the other and quickly handing them to Dean, who pocketed them in Jamal’s jacket he still wore. 

“Attic,” Sam panted, “the - the patients… they tried to get out the attic window…” he shook his head, “’s’the only one that’s left open.” 

Dean’s attention went to his brother as he spoke before lifting back to Jamal, “We jump out the attic window,” he informed him determinedly with a nod, “ _that’s_ how we get out.” 

Jamal pressed his lips together staring across Sam incredulously at Dean a moment before sighing heavily as he shook his head, dropping his gaze as he considered what Dean had said before lifting his eyes to Dean once more.

“I got no idea ‘bout this wacked out shit, man,” he nodded, giving Dean a pointed look, “but I know you do,” he allowed, “I trus’ you,” he confided, “whatever you wanna do, bro,” he agreed. 

Dean nodded, “Let’s get the hell outta here,” he answered.

Jamal gave another nod, tightening his hold on Sam, helping Dean to pull his brother toward the door as Sam’s body hung limply between them, his feet dragging across the soil beneath them more often than not. 

Dean looked back over his shoulder toward Kelley who was lagging, “Kelley, come on!” He shouted the command before returning his attention forward just as the inky black mass appeared next to the thresh hold of the chamber. 

“Shit!” Dean growled, reaching up to pull the shotgun strap from around his neck pointing it at the fog and firing off a round. 

“Run!” He barked, “Everybody run!” He instructed, nearly shoving Sam into Jamal’s arms. 

“Go!” He demanded as he turned, firing again at the inky goo, his gaze darting to the side toward Kelley, “Get outta here!”

Kelley shrieked softly and ran toward Jamal as he struggled to pull Sam along with him back the way they had come. She ducked under Sam’s arm on one side, wrapping an arm around his waist as she looked over at Jamal and gave a nod. 

“I can help,” she insisted. 

Sam’s head lolled back, blood smeared and covering his nose, lips and chin, pain glazed eyes rolling. 

“No,” he mumbled almost incoherently, “De’n,” he said, lifting a hand weakly, holding it out toward his brother even as Jamal and Kelley pulled him away toward the stairwell.

Dean slowly backed away from the inky sludge as he continued to fire at it, face set in determined lines. 

Faces slowly emerged within the undulating inky mass, changing and morphing within the swirling fog as it crept closer. Some of the faces he recognized as those who had been killed here in the asylum, others he didn’t know. 

He hurriedly reached into the pockets of Jamal’s coat, pulling out the salt and lighter fluid, sprinkling salt and pouring lighter fluid around him, aiming some of it toward the chamber they had been in for good measure. 

“Help us, Dean,” they implored in unison. 

“Go to hell,” Dean snarled in response, pocketing the salt and lighter fluid before once again firing the shotgun. 

It wasn’t an easy task getting Sam up the narrow stairwell. Kelley was forced to release him, following Sam and Jamal up, her hand against Sam’s wounded back, nearly pushing him up the stairs as Jamal pulled him along, their bodies wedged within the confined space. 

“C’mon, Sam, work with me, homey,” Jamal grunted as he pulled Sam along. 

Sam’s feet scrambled for purchase on the stairs managing only a few times to be of any aid in getting him up the steps. 

Reaching the steps just as Sam, Jamal and Kelley cleared them, Dean pulled out the salt and lighter fluid once more, dousing the area before making a break for it, dashing up the steps hurriedly in an attempt to outrun the inky mass chasing after him. 

He pocketed his supplies as he ran down the hall with the evil ink-like fog following after him. 

Catching up to Jamal, Sam and Kelley, Dean skittered to a stop next to his brother, ducking his head as he grabbed Sam’s arm, wrapping it around his neck. 

“Move!” He ordered, “Come on, let’s go!” He commanded, glancing back over his shoulder at the goo as it began to gain on them. 

Jamal and Dean ran with Sam as fast as they were able and still pull Sam along between them.

“Kelley, get your ass in front of us,” Dean demanded, tightening his grip on Sam as he looked over at his brother. 

“Sammy, you still with us?” he asked gently. 

Sam gave a nod, gulping in a breath, visions of the asylum continuing to painfully play out in his mind. 

“Yeah,” he croaked weakly. 

Racing back into the tank room, the inky mass hot on their heels, Dean pulled his brother’s arm from around his neck and paused briefly as his eyes met Jamal’s. 

“You take care of him, get him the hell outta here no matter what happens,” Dean ordered, jaw set with stubborn determination. 

Jamal gave a slow brief nod, “Fo’ shizzle, bro, you can count on it,” he gave an encouraging twitch of his lips, “guard ’im with my life.”

Dean returned the nod, his eyes sliding to Sam as his brother started to argue incoherently. 

“Listen to Jamal,” he told Sam, leaning in and dropping a kiss against his brother’s temple, “don’t be an little bitch, I’ll come back and haunt your ass,” he threatened before turning and running back the way they’d come toward the evil black fog. 

“No,” Sam called as he fought to look back toward Dean, even as Jamal pulled him forward. “De’n, no!” 

Kelley paused in her steps waiting for Jamal and Sam to reach her and took up Dean’s prior position, helping Jamal pull Sam toward safety. 

“Alright you evil sonuvabitch,” Dean growled softly through his teeth, shot gun in one hand, the salt and lighter fluid in the other, “come and get me, you pussy.”

Sam stumbled along between Jamal and Kelley as they inched their way across the narrow metal bridge, the three of them barely fitting. 

“No,” Sam ground out between clenched teeth, “we have to go back for Dean,” he insisted. 

“S’not how I hear it, Sam, ‘corrding ta Dean, we jus’ gotta get you ta safety an’ the three of us outta here,” Jamal corrected. 

Sam grit his teeth against the pain and growled in frustration, head falling back as another painful vision slammed into him, stealing his breath. 

He watched as the orderlies brought the doctor before their alter, stringing him up, arms and legs spread just the way Cody had been, his body slowly ripped in half. 

Hints, the ghosts of the patients had been trying to give hints all along. 

“They’ve been trying to tell us, warn us, ” Sam muttered weakly, “the whole time…”

Jamal and Kelley exchanged a look of confusion before Jamal looked at Sam.

“How exactly have they been trying to warn us?” Jamal asked incredulously. 

Sam snorted, “Working across the veil messages get distorted…”

Jamal scoffed, “That’s one way’a lookin’ at it,” he muttered shaking his head in disbelief. 

Dean stood watching the inky mass move forward toward him and lifted the shotgun, pointing it at the sludge. He fired round after round into it though it continued to move forward, the rock salt barely slowing its progress at all. 

He slowly began backing away from it as the mass reared up as it continued to move toward him before suddenly disappearing into the floor. 

Dean’s head pivoted as he surveyed the area around him, searching for the inky goo only to find nothing. 

The corner of Dean’s lips quirked upward into a cocky grin as he scoffed, “Not so big and bad after all,” he sneered.

He started scattering rock salt on the floor along with lighter fluid making his way backward into the tank room, glancing back over his shoulder at the empty bridge. 

A sigh of relief escaped at the knowledge that Jamal had gotten Sam through and out of there before he returned his attention in front of him, just as the floor began to crack, the wood splintering and welting up in a line that was headed right for him. 

“Sonuvabitch,” Dean growled, eyes widening in shock before he turned running toward the bridge. 

The welting and cracking wood floor knocked into Dean’s feet, tripping him, sending him falling face first onto the metal bridge, the shotgun slipping from his grip, skittering forward above his head on the metal bridge. 

Dean quickly rolled over onto his back, looking up at the inky mass as it rose up over him. Dean swung his arm holding the sea salt sending pellets into the swirling mass then swung his opposite arm, holding the lighter fluid, dousing the fog with it, his face contorted in a look of hatred and determination. 

The inky goo arched back the voices within groaning at once. 

“Yeah, you like that, bitch?” Dean spat before tearing his gaze away as he craned his neck, looking up at the shotgun. Returning his attention to the mass, he shuffled the lighter fluid into the same hand as the one that held the sea salt, lifting his opposite hand above his head, grappling for the gun. 

The inky fog shifted and undulated, Amber’s face slowly surfacing, her glowing red eyes roaming over him lasciviously, “I want you, Dean,” she purred seductively. 

Dean’s lip curled contemptuously as he stared up at her, his fingertips catching on the shotgun, pulling it into his hand. 

“Get in line, bitch,” Dean sneered, pulling the shotgun up, aiming it directly at her face as he fired. 

The voices within the mass all screamed at once, echoing off the walls around them. 

Dean quickly rolled and scrambled to his feet, supplies in hand as he took off running across the bridge and off the other side. 

“Which way?” Jamal asked anxiously, turning his head left to right as he surveyed the area around them.

They had managed to make it halfway back to the halls leading to the rooms that Abram had cleaned up for them all to use. 

“You’re asking me?” Kelley asked incredulously, “I never saw any stairs leading up,” she insisted, “I have no idea!”

Jamal scoffed softly, “Great,” he grumbled. 

“Lobby,” Sam panted, swallowing hard after as he gave a nod, “De’n an’ I foun’ stairs off the lobby,” he explained breathlessly.

******

Dean left a trail of sea salt and lighter fluid behind him as he ran through the asylum heading for the stairs he and Sam had found when they’d made their initial sweep of the area. He continued to glance over his shoulder for the inky mass, but so far it didn’t seem to be following or he was out running it. Though he had a sinking feeling that neither was the case and that it was really only waiting for the right moment to come busting out of the floorboards. 

He ran down the hall past his and Sam’s room, pausing long enough at their weapons duffel to grab a few more rounds of rock salt, a pistol and more sea salt and lighter fluid before he was off and running, heading toward the lobby. 

******

Sam stumbled up the stairs, Jamal nearly the only thing holding him up. Kelley had released Sam at Jamal’s command and was climbing the stairs in front of them, her attention darting between where she was going and looking back at them over her shoulder. 

They had passed the second and third floor and were nearing the attic doors when something crashed up through the wooden staircase, separating Kelley from the others as Jamal was knocked away from Sam, his body tumbling down a dozen steps, landing face first on one of the small landings. 

Sam fell flat on his back, the wind knocked from his lungs, pain filled eyes cracked open to mere slits as he stared up at the inky fog as it loomed over him. 

“Sammy,” it purred in many voices at once, “we’ve been waiting for you…” 

******

Dean ran into the lobby and past, heading back into the kitchen area. He paused before the stove, turning on the gas burners, and opening the oven door as he turned that one along with it. Satisfied that it would serve his purposes, Dean turned and hurried back out of the kitchen and up the stairs. 

******

“Wait longer, biatch,” Jamal growled as he lunged forward, shoving Sam out of the way. 

Sam grunted as he rolled down a couple of the steps, out of the way of the immediate danger from the inky mass. 

The ink-like fog knocked Jamal back, looming over him menacingly. 

Lifting the rifle in his hands, Jamal pointed it at the mass, “Eat this, muthafucker,” he growled, pulling the trigger over and over as the inky mass crashed over him, disappearing into the stairwell. 

Dean ran up the steps, pausing briefly as he stared up at the inky fog, eyes wide, watching as it crashed down over Jamal. 

“Jamal!” Dean shouted before he growled in frustration, hurrying up the steps after him. 

“Dean,” Sam mumbled, lifting his head weakly, searching for his brother.

Dean paused on the steps as he came to Sam lying before him, eyes widening, “Sammy,” he breathed worriedly. 

Jamal’s blood paltered outward as the mass crashed over him, droplets raining down over Sam and splattering on Kelley where she had paused on the steps, staring back in terrified shock. 

Crouching next to his brother, Dean pulled Sam into his arms, hugging him up against his body, one hand lifting to pet through his brother’s mop of chestnut hair as he stared at the space where Jamal had been. Anger at himself for being too slow to prevent the death of his friend, coupled with the disappointment and grief of knowing that Jamal was gone, mingled with the guilt to naw mercilessly at him. 

“Dean,” Sam muttered, lifting his head, “you made it,” he murmured stupefied.

Dean blinked away his thoughts, clearing his throat as he pulled his head back marginally to look at Sam, game face in place. 

He grinned at his brother as his eyes searched his face lovingly, “Course I did, I’m me,” he replied smugly. 

Sam sniffed, his brow furrowing in confusion, “Gas,” he muttered.

Dean’s smile slid away, lips pressed in a thin line as he gave a nod, “Yeah, come on, we gotta get outta here,” he informed him, wrapping an arm around Sam’s waist, helping him to his feet. 

Dean helped Sam carefully make his way across the hole in the stairs and over to the other side. He made sure to spread salt and lighter fluid behind them before his gaze lifted, meeting Kelley’s. 

“Kel,” he said, waiting as she blinked and seemed to shake herself out of the horrified fog she was in and look up at him. 

Giving her a nod, Dean jutted his head upward, “We need to keep going,” he stated, watching as she nodded mutely and turned, hurrying up the remaining steps to the attic. 

As they crossed the thresh hold into the attic cupola, Dean eased Sam down onto the floor in a sitting position and crouched in front of him, one hand against his shoulder as his gaze roamed over his brother’s face. 

“Sammy, you okay?” He asked worriedly. 

Sam nodded, lifting a trembling hand to his head, eyes squeezed tightly closed against the pain. 

“Just hang in there, baby,” Dean murmured before pulling to his feet, turning his attention to Kelley. 

“How are you holdin’ up?” He asked gently. 

Kelley shook her head, tears stinging her eyes, “I don’t want to die,” she whispered brokenly. 

A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitched as he clenched it, guilt at Jamal‘s death washing over him once again, nearly choking him. 

“No one else is dyin’ here,” he said firmly. “Not on my watch,” he added, one hand lifting, index finger pointing at his own chest as he shook his head and walked toward the lone window that sat on the other side of the room, sprinkling salt and lighter fluid across the floor on his way. 

Peering out, Dean saw that the window over looked the ocean below. He understood now why the patients had thought to jump here, other than it being the only open window, it was also probably the only one in which they would survive a jump from. 

Dean grabbed the window and tugged upward in an attempt to get it open, but the glass wouldn’t budge. 

“Shit! Sounvuabitch!” Dean swore as he released the window, brow furrowed in annoyance as he gazed at it, trying to figure out of maybe there was some kind of lock that needed to be unfastened. 

“What’s the matter?” Kelley asked as she stepped up to him. 

“Eh,” he huffed irritably, “it’s stuck,” he answered, waving a hand at that window. 

“Can we not get out?” Kelley asked worriedly, “Are we trapped here?”

Dean shook his head as he turned away from the window and walked over to Sam, crouching down beside him and reaching for him. 

“No,” he said as he looked up at her, pulling Sam to him, “I’ll just have to break it.”

Dean pulled Sam to his feet as he slowly stood with him, walking him over to the window, allowing him to slide down against the adjoining wall. 

The second Sam’s butt hit the floor the wood where he had been sitting exploded upward as the inky black mass broke through, looming upward over them all. 

“I told you there was no way out,” Abram’s voice said from within the mass. 

“Sonuva…” Dean growled, reaching for his shotgun. 

“Sammy, cover your eyes!” He commanded, before using the butt end of the rifle, smashing through the window glass. Shrugging off Jamal’s jacket, Dean knocked glass out of the way and covered the jagged edges with the thick material.

Once the window was open, fresh clean air blowing in from the ocean, Dean moved over to Sam, pulling him to his feet, leading him over to the window. 

The black swirling mass crept closer, moving along the floor, feeler like tendrils reaching out toward them as it rippled, moving across the floor. 

“Dean.” Kelley whined in warning, her eyes laser focused on the inky mass. 

Dean sat Sam on the window sill, leaning his back against the frame. 

Swirling around, Dean held his hand out to Kelley, “Kel, come on,” Dean called to her as she remained standing frozen in place. 

“Kelley!” Dean shouted as the black fog drew closer. 

“Dean,” Sam croaked wearily. 

Dean looked back over his shoulder at his brother, brow furrowing in irritation, “Why are you still there, goddammit? Jump!” He growled. 

The goo slowly began to engulf Kelley’s legs as she stood there, a scream tearing from her throat as bones snapped like twigs. 

Dean’s attention snapped back to Kelley, “Kelley!” he shouted, pulling on her hand as the inky mass lifted her into the air. 

Kelley’s dark green eyes met Dean’s emerald beseechingly, tears pooling within their depths. 

“Don’t let me die,” She begged brokenly. 

Dean doubled his efforts to pull her to him, reaching for her, his opposite hand joining the first. 

“Kelley,” Dean grunted, teeth clenched with the effort as he pulled, feet planted wide against the floor. 

“Dean,” Kelley whimpered a second before her hand slipped from his. With a terrorized scream Kelley was sucked into the inky fog, bones crunching before her blood splattered outward. 

Dean stared in wide eyed shock, barely even feeling as Kelley’s blood rained down on both he and Sam. Slowly he turned his head, looking over his shoulder at the window, his eyes falling on Sam who still had yet to jump. 

“Goddammit, Sam,” Dean growled as he crossed the distance between them, “I told you to jump!”

Sam shook his head slowly, “Not without you,” he insisted weakly. 

Dean’s eyes widened marginally before narrowing as he clenched his jaw stubbornly, “Wanna bet?” he snapped, reaching out with both hands, gripping Sam’s shirts and jacket, hands curling into tight fists. He jerked Sam toward him as though he were about to kiss him, his eyes searching his brother’s face a moment before he shoved Sam hard, sending his brother toppling out the window. 

Dean stepped up to the window, peering out, watching as Sam’s body crashed into the sea below.

Turning away from the window, his attention returned to the ink-like fog that reared up, looming over him.

“It’s not s’a bad brotha, c’mon, Dean, join us,” Jamal’s voice entreated. 

Dean’s lip curled in a sneer as he glared at the mass, backing up against the window, preparing to jump. 

“Now I know your fulla shit, Jamal never would have said something that stupid,” Dean spat softly as he reached around for the pistol he had stuffed in his waistband. 

His eyes narrowed contemptuously as he aimed the pistol and fired the round sending it past the inky fog, the bullet hitting it’s mark; the lighter fluid and salt pile in the center of the room. 

At the combustible spark the gas from the stove combined with the lighter fluid. Dean turned, jumping out the window, just as the asylum exploded; going up in a burst of flames. 

******

Sam’s body plunged deep into the ocean on impact, his wounds paining him severely in the salt water, though at least the visions had stopped. As his body came to a stop in the water, Sam kicked out of the fall and swam hard for the surface. 

Arms flailed in disorientation as his head pivoted, before the explosion caught his attention and had him turning in the water, staring up at the asylum, his heart pounding in his chest as grief clutched at his heart. 

_‘Oh God, no…’_

“Dean!!!” Sam shouted.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets word from an old Stanford buddy that on a dare for some extra cash he and others are going to stay the night at a “haunted” Inn, but Sam and Dean know that joke hauntings more often than not turn out to be the real deal and decide to tag along. All seems fine at first until the first death vision hits Sam and the body count begins to escalate. As Dean and Sam scramble to find out what the hell is happening they learn a bit of the Inn’s past and with it the ghost’s motivations. Can our boys make it out in time or will they be added to the growing body count in this Inn where you can check in, but there’s no checking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***** This fiction is from the 2010 pictures2words on LiveJournal. 
> 
> **A/N:** The asylum history used for this fiction is a bastardization of the real ByBerry Mental Institution in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Author has taken artistic liberties to change the name and location as well as the structure itself, which is actually based on the Athens Asylum, in order to fit the needs of this fiction. 
> 
> **Personal A/N:** I just wanted to take a minute and thank my awesome artist who outdid herself with the lovely works contained in this fiction. She was totally awesome-sauce! ♥  
>  At one point I was starting to think that all there would be was pretty pictures and hardly any fiction... between my scrambling and her artwork that seemed to flow from her fingertips, I was beyond impressed. It is my sincere hope that this fiction is everything that dollarformyname had hoped it would be and then some. She deserves it, she worked hard for it. For you, my lady... **_The Haunting of Burberry Harbor Inn..._**

Burning debris from the crumbling asylum crashed into the water in front of and around Sam, but there was no sign of his brother. 

“Dean!” Sam called out as he turned in the water, searching frantically. “Dean!” He called again. “No goddammit, no!” Sam growled clenching his teeth, tears filling his eyes. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Dean wasn’t supposed to die, not here, not now, not ever. They were supposed to keep hunting, find Dad, get the thing that had killed their mom, grow old together. 

“Dean!!!” Sam shouted brokenly as tears made slow tracks down his cheeks. 

Dean surfaced in the water, his head pivoting as he searched for Sam, he grit his teeth as his wounds burned like a sonuvabitch. 

“Sammy!” He called as his eyes scanned the water for his brother, finally catching sight of Sam treading water a few feet away. 

The feeling of something moving under the water near his legs drew Sam’s attention just as Dean’s head broke the surface of the water directly in front of him.

“Did ya miss me?” Dean asked as he reached for his brother, pulling him into his arms. 

“You son of a --” Sam muttered, choking on a sob as he buried his face against Dean’s neck. 

The asylum behind them exploded again, more burning debris raining down around them in the water. 

Dean pulled back marginally from his brother, leaf green eyes meeting hazel just as a piece of burning wood fell between them, bouncing off their bodies before falling with a sizzle into the water. 

“Down,” Dean said with a nod, “we go down, get away from this stuff.”

Sam nodded in agreement before they both dove under the water though not deep enough as a large plank of wood fell into the water, just above their heads, striking them both. Blood flowed into the water from the cut on Dean’s forehead and Sam’s crown, the impact knocking them both unconscious. Their grip on one another slowly slipping away; each floating off in a different direction. 

Sam awoke to the sound of seagulls cawing and bright sunlight shining in this face. A groan tore from his throat, body was beyond sore; he felt as though Dean had run him over with the Impala. 

_Dean…_

Sam’s eyes snapped open with a start, gasping in a breath. He lifted his head up off the soft sand and wished he hadn’t, another groan bubbling out from between his lips. 

Dean awoke with a low groan, brow furrowing at the aggravating sound of seagulls and the damn sun shining in his eyes. As if a person could sleep like that, didn’t Sam know to shut the damn windows? 

His eyes snapped open as he thought of his brother and the events of the night before came back to him. So that was why he felt like he’d been in a bar fight in which he’d lost. Lifting his head with a groan, he searched the area for Sam, finding him a few feet away. His lips twitched upward at the corners as he watched his brother stir. 

He started to climb to his feet and quickly decided that walking was over rated, opting to crawl to his brother instead. Rolling onto his side, he got up on all fours and started over toward his brother. 

“Hey, did ya miss me?” Dean asked hoarsely, his voice raw like sandpaper. 

Sam sighed in relief as Dean appeared at his side, lowering onto the sand beside him, one arm wrapping around his waist, pulling him in. 

He allowed his head to lower back to the sand as his brother held onto him, relaxing against the soft sand as he gazed up into Dean’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Sam answered softly, his voice just as raw and hoarse, “I did,” he said, lips slowly curling in a smile as he reached up, wrapping an arm around his brother. 

Dean lowered his head to Sam’s shoulder, both of them relaxing together, though as the silence stretched between them he was sure that Sam’s gaze was fixed on the smoldering remains of the asylum in the distance just as his was. 

“Not one of ’em made it out,” Dean remarked disgustedly.

Sam pressed his lips together in a thin line as his brow furrowed thoughtfully, “No,” he agreed, “but they’re all free now, Dean,” he said, tearing his gaze from the remains of the asylum, looking over at his brother. 

“We did manage to do that,” he mumbled softly as he lifted his brows, lips curving upward slightly at the corners. 

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, “I guess so…”

Sam tightened his arm around his brother and turned his head, pressing his lips to Dean’s forehead, kissing away the crease lines. 

“One thing though,” Sam mentioned.

Dean’s eyes lifted to his brother’s face, “What’s that?”

“Your car’s still over there,” Sam answered. 

“Oh God,” Dean groaned, “now it’s even worse.”

Sam chuckled softly, tightening his arm around his brother even more, grunting softly as he pulled Dean over, half on top of himself. 

“Kiss me,” Sam murmured, “it’ll help.” 

Dean dipped his head, kissing his brother slowly, sucking on his top and bottom lips before his tongue darted into Sam’s mouth, the tip running over the ridges and grooves before tangling with Sam’s own tongue, eliciting a low moan from deep in his throat. 

Sam’s lips curved into a wide smile, dimples showing as Dean slowly ended the kiss, “Better?”

Dean frowned thoughtfully, “Mmmmm,” he hummed pensively and shook his head. 

“Not yet,” he whispered before dipping his head again and slanting his mouth back over his brother’s; kissing him all over again. 

**THE END**


End file.
